


Paint the Sky

by Witchy003



Series: Paint the Sky [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, F/M, George Weasley is a Good Friend, Good Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Minor Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pottercest (Harry Potter), Slytherin Harry Potter, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 120,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28579275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy003/pseuds/Witchy003
Summary: Aylia Aurora remembers the day she became friends with the Weasley twins. Since then, her life has never quite been the same. Now, desperate to become and Animal Healer, Aylia is tackling her seventh year at Hogwarts as darkness starts to seep into the Wizarding World.Things are changing, fears are spreading, and Aylia worries about who will be left standing at the end of the impending war- and if she’ll figure out her feelings for a certain wizard before it’s too late.Set in Order of the Phoenix. Uses scenes from both the novels and the films.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Paint the Sky [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191479
Comments: 130
Kudos: 98





	1. 1. The Inevitable Shift

The exact moment when we had become friends is still a vivid scene that lives within my memory. I tended to stick closely to the members of my own house for the first two years of school, forming friendships with like-minded people, enjoying the late night talks in the common room, and the familiar pack of faces at the dinner table. It changed on a Fall evening, the leaves crisp outside on the school grounds, the evenings brisk and painted with wondrously colourful skies.

Being an animal lover, I found myself outside on the school grounds quite often in the Fall. It’s when Hagrid was outside most evenings, tending to creatures and allowing me to spectate. Sometimes, he’d even allow me to help. Those days were my favourite. All of the extra knowledge was likely why I was acing Care of Magical Creatures.

I had gone down to Hagrid’s Hut that evening, hoping he’d be out tending to the Hippogriffs he had brought in for this week’s lesson. I was saddened to find his hut empty, and the lights off. I poked around for a bit, greeting the various creatures that had grown to know and love me, the ones that he allowed to stay outside while he was away.

I had caught a glimpse of something red flash by in my peripherals, so quickly that it looked like a ball of fire being thrown to the wind. I spun around, but saw nothing.

“I will bloody kill you, Weasels!” I heard a screech.

I looked up the hill, where Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint were storming toward me, their faces full of blue warts. They were still quite far away, but I could see the giant welts on Blaise’s eyes, making the top-half of his face look abnormally extended- like a cave man.

“Hey,” I heard a whisper.

I glanced behind Hagrid’s hut, where the voice had come from. I still couldn’t see anyone near.

“Pst,” I heard again.

I took a few steps backward, so I could see just around the corner. There were Fred and George Weasley, smirks consuming their entire faces. Their hands were full of what looked like blue paint, their clothes full of dirt.

“What the hell are you two up to?” I sneered, glancing back up to Blaise and Marcus who were slowing down as their faces grew.

“Cover for us,” Fred whispered, “We’ll owe you one.”

George nodded. “Two, if you’d like.”

I raised an eyebrow.

Turn on my own house? Blaise and Marcus were not necessarily my best friends, but we were friendly. They had always been decent to me, even when I lost us house points, and that was saying quite a lot for the people in my house. It would be practically treason to hide two Gryffindor’s who had clearly just humiliated them before dinner.

I scanned their face, all smiles and freckles. I didn’t even know them well then, but I could see the spark and mischief that exuded from their eyes. I hadn’t met anyone like them, so full of life, and so unwilling to allow their own lives to go dull- even in school. It was like a plague, awful to be in the presence of but undoubtedly contagious. Plus, I couldn’t deny that they were a lot more tolerable since their games weren’t aimed at me

As Fred craned his neck to look behind the hut, checking on how close his victims had gotten, and George wiggled his eyebrows at me, I had made up my mind.

“Fine,” I said quietly, glancing back up at my housemates who were in hearing distance. I started picking at the weeds, where the gollyworms were. “But tuck around back and run, they’re going to check there.”

“Godsend you are,” Fred whispered, and I could hear the smile on his face.

I waved them off and heard them shuffling quickly out of eyesight.

Marcus and Blaise stormed right up to me, glancing around the surrounding area. Up close, it was much worse than it looked. Blaise’s eyes were basically just two giant blueberries. Their faces looked as though they were moving in various directions as new welts appears and others popped. As Marcus crossed his arms in anger, I could see the spots went all the way down to their hands.

“Auora,” Blaise grumbled.

“Zabini,” I smiled politely, gripping a ball of soil to remove the weeds, like Hagrid had taught me. “What on earth happened to you two?”

“Bloody Weasley twins,” Marcus sneered. “They ran down here.”

“Did they?” I asked, mocking confusion. I paused my digging to look behind me, as if they would be foolish enough to be standing right there. I turned back to them. “I haven’t seen a thing.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the twins speeding up the hill. One may have waved to me as a thank you, but I couldn’t give up the act now that I was committed to the bit. If I looked toward them, even just a glance, Blaise and Marcus may follow suit, and now I was in on this.

“They can’t have been that fast,” Blaise said, a welt popping next to his lips. “Flint, check behind there.”

Flint immediately rushed around the hut. Blaise rushed up the two steps to Hagrid’s hut and peered through the windows.

I risked a glance up the hill, but the twins were only little dots now, nearly at the entrance to the castle. There was absolutely no way that Flint would be able to recognize him with his eyes swelling at such a rapid rate.

I fought a smirk as Flint came around the other side of the hut, arms dropped in defeat. Busying myself in the gollyworm soil, I pretending to be utterly uninterested in this game between the four of them.

“They might have gone into the forest,” Blaise said, hopping off of the steps.

They were pretty brave for first years, I wouldn’t have been pursuing the Weasley twins after being bait to one of their prank as measly little eleven year olds.

Flint winced as a welt popped on his head, sending blue juice all over the sleeve of his sweater. “I’m not going in there, are you mad?”

“No, of course not,” Blaise muttered. “We’ll have to get them back later. Bloody prats.”

“Later, Aurora,” Flint nodded, as the two took off up the hill.

“See you in the common room,” I said politely.

As they retreated up the hill, the sun finally setting behind the astronomy tower, painting the sky a brilliant orange and red, I felt that shift in the universe. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time that I helped the Weasley’s, though I had no idea the extent of our relationship on that fall evening. The world seemed to feel brighter almost immediately, exciting and perhaps even dangerous. They had that effect on people, you see.

The found me in the hallway the very next day to ask if I’d like to cash in on my favors.


	2. 1. The Inevitable Shift

I’m sure if you were to ask the twins if they remembered that day, they’d have to scan their mind to recall the details. For me, it marked the beginning of my new life. I finally had a group of _real_ friends. The four of us spent an absurd amount of time together, most of the time up to no good, but it was those fleeting moments of tenderness and unconditional friendship that changed the path of my life.

Falling asleep talking on the couches, sometimes spread out on the floor as the fire dwindled in front of us, exhausted from talking all night about nothing and everything at the same time. It was the kind of friendship I had longed for as a young girl, so immersed in your time together that you barely noticed the hours going by, where you could never pinpoint who fell asleep first, you just talked and joked until eventually it drifted into snores and breaths.

Once Cormac McLaggen had kissed me after a party, and my fifteen-year-old, delusional brain had actually believed that this boy was the one, only to find out the next day that he had asked Kelly Martown to be his girlfriend.

I had put on a brave face, but Fred had found me hiding in a quiet corridor, and he had asked if I was alright with such _tenderness_ in his voice that I had crumbled on the spot. I think that was the first time he saw me cry. I had been expecting jokes at my expense, little jabs about being interested in Cormac in the first place, but he just sat with me. He held me for what felt like an hour, not saying a single word, and then proceeded to make Cormac’s life hell for the remainder of the year. We never spoke of it again.

Now, starting our seventh year, it was likely people wouldn’t remember a time where our group didn’t include all of us. Where there was one, there were usually three others closely behind. It was bittersweet riding the train to school for the last time, our last first day. There was so much uncertainty ahead, so many questions about where we would go, and if we’d even make it to the last day with the rumblings happening beneath the surface, the whispers about the wizarding world.

I sat on the train, my eyes drifting closed with the motion of the tracks, as Lee told the carriage about how he had _accidentally_ almost told a muggle about magic this summer. He made sure to mention that it wasn’t a little slip up- but a whole conversation about Hogwarts and his plans for after graduation.

I listened, the corners of my lips tugging upward. It was not surprising that Lee Jordan would be the one to simultaneously dismantle the muggle world and the wizarding world in one fell swoop.

My own summer had been utterly lackluster, stuck in my chilly little city with my old friends who thought I had been attending a luxurious private school since the age of eleven, despite the size and location of my family home making it absurdly obvious that that could not possibly be the case.

It was nice of them to include me in their plans every summer, like I had never left their little group, even though we had very little to connect about anymore. Despite my constant habit of pulling away from them, my uncomfortable sadness setting in after being away from my _real_ life for too long, they rarely ever let up.

That’s one thing that nobody really talks about when they consider the lives of muggleborn witches and wizards. We are pulled out of the only reality we know, likely without knowing a thing about the wizarding world, and thrown into a universe that we were told was make belief. Then, we have to return home each holiday break and summer only to keep that life-changing secret from everyone we know, and anyone we love. The first summer home is nice, refreshing even, but by the second year it becomes hard to keep the façade going with any muggle friends when you could no longer relate to them.

Thankfully, Fred and George had sent a letter mid-July asking me to stay for two weeks before school started for our final year. I had been so excited that my parents had agreed almost immediately. I expect that they knew how badly I was struggling in those summer months. They also knew that it was safe at the Burrow, with Molly and Arthur, and couldn’t really see a reason to refuse. 

We had spent those two weeks having an utter laugh. My stomach had hurt for two days after one of those nights, where we told jokes and poked fun at each other until the sun started breaking through the black canvas of the sky. It was the normalcy that I have craved. I slept well.

There were other moments though; different moments. Ever since last year, things just felt different. There was a tangible fear around simply existing as a part of the wizarding world. Our conversations had started to get deeper. We spoke often about what we would do if something happened at school, while we were there, how we’d get to Ginny fast enough, to Ron and Harry. Those conversations quickly drifted to what would happen if something happened to one of us, or all of us, what would happen to our families.

Those late night talks held less laughter, much less, and more long, excruciating silences. I don’t think that I was alone in struggling to fall asleep with ease after those chats, I’d lie awake and think about what might be _right_ around the corner.

It was strange, staying in a wizard home, because they also understood the dangers that were approaching quickly, the depth of what Voldemort’s return could mean.

Summers at my home, a muggle home, provided a comfort of ignorance that I may have taken for granted.

“What about you, practice your Quidditch against Harry and Ron?”

George snorted. “Yeah, but it’s Ginny that we need to worry about.”

“Woman’s got a right wicked arm on her,” Fred added.

“You getting any better?” Lee asked, nudging me awake.

I looked over at him through hooded eyes, keeping my head resting against the seat.

I knew Fred and George were smirking at each other, doing that unspoken twin thing while I spoke to Lee, relishing at the vivid memory of me failing miserably on my broom all summer.

“I’d be surprised if I wasn’t scouted by Puddlemere United by end of term,” I said, smiling weakly at him.

“Yeah, because they’re also rubbish,” Fred muttered, and he and George burst into laughter.

I glared at him, reaching down to find the wrapper of my chocolate frog. I slid my fingers aroud the side of it quickly and tossed it at him like a frisbee. I moved so fast, as if I should actually be a Seeker, that it spiraled toward him before he had a chance to react and at hit him right in the forehead.

Better bloody watch out for my wicked arm too.

“Argh!” He shouted in surprise, smacking his hands to his face. The chocolate frog package bounced off of his head and into George’s lap.

Lee burst out laughing that infectious loud sound that I had actually grown to miss over the summer. It was a little bit sad that he never came to the Burrow in the summers. It would be nice to have the entire gang together to do things outside of school, especially since we were approaching adulthood at an unforgiving pace. 

I glanced out of the carriage as the trolley came by, all of us shaking our heads at her politely through the window of our compartment. She was trailed closely by three Slytherin students, already in their robes, awkwardly holding out their money.

Their curious eyes scanned over us, just little second years, likely recognizing me from our common room and knowing exactly who Fred and George were. I wished we were in our house robes then. I could show them that it was okay to build friendships outside of your own house. I remember feeling like a trapped little second year too.

“I wish we could skip the feast,” I grumbled, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “I’m exhausted.”

“You’re mad,” Fred scoffed, apalled.

“It’s the only tolerable thing about the first day back,” George said.

Lee was nodding vigorously. “I can practically taste the pumpkin pasties.”

“I would trade sleep for all of the food in the world right now.”

“Aw, curly- cheer up. You’ll be in dreamland next to Millicent the madwoman before you know it,” Fred joked.

Lee immediately dove into a dangerously accurate impression of Millicent anytime she was caught in the crossfire of our mischief. “ _You bloody heathens! I am prejudiced against fun!”_

Millicent _was_ dramatic. I always caught an earful from her for days after her outbursts. One time she had cornered me in the common room for forty-five minutes, _forty-five bloody minutes,_ lecturing me about my respect, my reputation, and about how I could possibly side with _them_ over her, as if we were friends. I was older than her, we rarely ever spoke, but anytime the twins were involved- we were suddenly close enough for _those_ conversations.

I shut my eyes again as they reminisced on the many pranks they’d pulled on her- giving her treats that made her fart uncontrollably, which I had disagreed with whole heartedly, or the one where she was left temporarily blinded and walked into Professor McGonagall’s chest while trying to find the bathroom. They had called her ‘Motorboat Milly’ for six months.

As the lull of the train brought me near sleep, I couldn’t help but think about Harry and his trial this summer, and how on edge we had all been to come back. Hell, we didn’t even know if he’d get to come back. Someone had clearly had it out for him, and the toll it was taking was becoming evident.

I liked Harry. He was kind, honest, and he a bloody brave boy despite all he had been through in his life. The one thing I couldn’t handle, especially when I heard it in the common room or the dorms, was Potter slander. Give any of these kids half a cup of what Harry has gone through, and they’d be curled up in a ball and crying.

There had been murmurs at the train station this morning about Harry’s story and what happened at the Triwizard Tournament. I’d honestly been expecting it since the Daily Prophet had been running one ridiculous story after another all summer. A couple of students had stood there with their families, noses up toward the sky, discussing how Harry had _surely_ had something to do with Cedric’s death. The Ministry had outright denied the truth, after all, and throughout history we’ve learned to _always_ put your blind trust in the government.

Absolute bollocks.

I had been immediately blinded by rage. The lack of respect for something Harry had to endure was one thing, but to mock him and call him a liar was adjacent to a crime.

I had halted, mid-stride, and turned to them. Fred and George must have been expecting it, because they stopped too- hands still on their trolley’s, smiles slowly growing before the show had even begun.

I had ended up telling them off. When I wasn’t satisfied with their frightened, shocked faces and unwillingness to respond, I decided to tell their parents off as well.

I had been absolutely fuming, steam practically coming from my ears. I was still going as their parents ushered them away, muttering distaste under their breath.

The three of us stood and watched them disappear into the crowd. My chest was rising and falling, attempting to calm my body down, but Fred and George were immediately in hysterics, hyping me up with the utmost sincerity. As usual, they found complete bliss in rewarding my verbal lashings, not daring to interrupt when I was on a roll, but we all slowly fell back into line when we realized Molly had also stopped when she heard me going off.

I had almost begun to apologize, horribly regretful for causing a scene in front of her, but she had smiled ever-so slightly and gave me a brief nod before hurrying after Ginny.

I tried not to allow the approaching darkness to consume me, but it was getting quite hard. It was infuriating when idiots, like those kids and their parents, chose to believe in fairy tales to avoid the scarier truth. Moments like what happened on the platform followed me like a storm cloud. Ignorance was dangerous, and these wankers were going to get us all killed.

The twins, as usual, were able to separate their day-to-day from the looming threat. They didn’t think about these things enough to let it ruin their day, while the prospect of what was to come had me losing sleep and verbally assaulting twelve-year-olds in public. Maybe it was because I didn’t know what to expect; I wasn’t told about the first war growing up. All I had learned about the wizarding war had been through school, or stories from friends and their families. Or maybe, and it was likely that this were the case, I was just a different type of person than the twins.

I found peace in Hermione. I knew that she sympathized, knowing that I shared identical roots to this life as hers. She seemed to understand why I had one billion questions, at all times, about every possible thing surrounding the dark lord’s return.

Those nights in Ginny’s room before bed were often spent with me asking questions on a loop, and Ginny and Hermione answering them. I liked their different perspectives, one whose family lived through the history, and one who had learned the history through books.

“Better get those robes on,” Fred said, nudging my foot from across the booth. “You’ve got drool all over that jumper.”

I let out a groan, kicking his foot back roughly in retort. Standing to grab my trunk and retrieve my robes, I did the usual routine- demanded them to pull the blinds and turn their heads. I’d be damned if I got stuck in the loo with a bunch of first years again.


	3. 3. The Rumbling of a Rat

I separated from my friends only momentarily to put some stuff in the dorms. It took everything in me not to cave and lie down and shut my eyes for a few moments. If I did, I’d likely fall asleep and miss the feast entirely.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t skip the last welcome feast and sorting ceremony. I was already nostalgic for it and it hadn’t yet happened.

I said a quick hello to a few of my housemates, who were also quickly unpacking some necessities for the dorm. There was an air of eeriness in the room, nobody spoke, everyone quietly looked around and minded their business. Was it due to it being our last year at school? Or did nobody know where each other stood on the political matters being tossed about?

I was about to push through the door of the common room just as Draco entered with Crabbe and Goyle.

I glanced at them, giving them a polite nod, but Draco and I seemed to linger on each other for just a moment longer than the others. Surely, we knew where he stood on the issue- it was definitely written right on daddy's arm. 

He raised an eyebrow at me as I stared, my jaw set, daring him to make a single smart comment, even if it was just about Potter. 

He quickly looked away.

I would not add worrying about Draco and his crooked family's loyalties to my list of irrational fears on my plate this year. I had gone head to head with him enough over the years, listening to him call me a mudblood and a house traitor. Not this year, Malfoy.

As I headed up from the dungeons and into the corridor, the hallways were bustling with activity. Students were hugging each other, catching up after a long summer away, huddled in groups which were vibrating with a liveliness you only saw on the first day.

“Heard you reamed out a couple of second years,” Beatrice Bogstrod said, appearing at my side as I headed toward the Great Hall.

We walked in pace with each other, her short little legs fighting to keep up with my long strides.

“I absolutely did just that,” I smiled as her grin widened.

Beatrice shook her head, waving to a friend who was talking to a group of younger students. “I mean, bloody hell, Potter annoys me some of the time too but you would have to be an utter moron to believe he’d ever _kill_ someone.”

I nodded. “That’s what they were—morons.”

“And Florence told me the parents just _stood_ there?” She asked in disbelief.

“I’m quite certain they are the source of their children’s opinions,” I said.

Beatrice rolled her eyes, tugging at her crooked green tie as we approached the entrance to the great hall.

The group of first years were huddled at the bottom of the staircase, McGonagall addressing them quietly, their big eyes wide with nerves and wonder. Oh, to be that age again, innocent and enamored with the world- excited to learn from the greatest witches and wizards to ever live.

All I felt was envy.

Beatrice and I hurried quickly to the Slytherin table, trying our best to shove some students downward to get a good seat near the front of the hall, so we could watch the next generation of Slytherins get sorted. I had spent seven years sitting next to Beatrice for this ceremony, the only thing changing about her over the years being the length auburn hair. She surely hadn’t grown more than an inch or so.

We managed to find seats a couple of tables down. I couldn’t help but watch her, as she excitedly waved to other students, crinkling up her little button nose when somebody looked her way.

No.

I wasn’t going to get sad over the last of a tradition. I would be setting myself up for a year of agony if I started now.

I spun around to look for the twins at the Gryffindor table, and I found George’s head popping out above a group of seated students a little further down. He was ruffling up someone's hair, though I couldn’t see who. What an absolute menace.

“Oi, did you hear?”

I turned back around, Esmerelda Quail was leaning forward on her elbows, her black bangs hanging like a curtain over her dark eyes.

Florence, Beatrice, and I all leaned in almost immediately, recognizing the clear sign that crucial gossip was about to be spilled.

“See the pink lady?” she whispered, nodding toward the head table.

We all glanced up, looking at a hideous woman in an utterly hideous matching outfit. A small, pudgy little thing, wearing a fake but permanent smile on her thin pink lips. She sat scanning the room, taking mental notes before the feast even began.

“Yes, what about her?” Florence asked.

“Apparently she’s from the Ministry,” Esmerelda whispered, raising her eyebrows.

The Ministry?

Why on earth would a ministry employee be sat up there with the Hogwarts professors?

My first thought was that she was here to address the mounting concerns from last year, to perhaps provide reassurance that the Ministry was watching Hogwarts carefully, and that Aurors would be on standby in case anything threatened dark threatened to breach the grounds again, that another student would not die at the hands of the dark lord this year. I knew that was much too optimistic of a thought.

“So, my father, who works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” she stared, as though we weren’t already _very_ aware of her father’s occupation, “Says the Minister himself demanded that Dumbledore put her on staff, to ensure that the students know that there is no threat to be concerned about.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Pathetic.

Florence, who was fingering her blonde braid lightly, smirked in absolute pleasure of what was about to happen.

“What?” Esmerelda snapped. “You think he’s lying?”

“No,” I said, “But I do think they’re wrong- perhaps not your father, because I don’t know where he stands on the issue, but the Ministry is absolutely mad if they think throwing one of them amongst students is enough to convince us the dark lord is not a threat.”

I absolutely knew where Esmerelda’s father stood on the issue, he worked for Magical Law Enforcement, his job was quite literally to convince the community that we were all safe- even if that meant concealing any and all actual dangers.

It was bloody pathetic to think that forcing a woman in a three-piece suit into our classrooms would pull the wool over our eyes that easily.

“So, you’re telling me you believe Harry Potter’s story?” Es snickered.

I stared at her, feeling Beatrice’s sit up straighter beside me. She may be tiny, but she’s got nerve. She hadn’t even said a word, but I knew she was dusting off the boxing gloves to back me up if I needed it.

“I absolutely believe him,” I said, not breaking my gaze. “You’d have to be psychotic to think that he isn’t being genuine.”

Es’s brown eyes grew darker as she watched me. We once again stood on completely opposing sides of a pretty important issue. I wouldn’t be nostalgic about that tradition.

She had _been_ in the stands at the tournament. She had seen Harry frantically clutching Cedric’s body, crying and screaming in an utter panic, and she had _still_ convinced herself that Harry was lying.

She was as daft as her father.

Even if my father was the Minister of Magic himself, I could not imagine being brainwashed into doubting something I’d seen with my own eyes. Anyone with a brain could tell how traumatized Harry had been. Even if she hadn’t been there, and she had only heard about it from others, Harry’s story was much more logical in comparison to the tales now floating around, which were all undoubtedly influenced heavily by the Ministry.

The first years began marching into the Great Hall, looking around nervously, clutching onto each other for support while they seemed to drown in the abundance of material of their robes.

As I glanced at them over my shoulder, I saw myself there again- chubby cheeked with unruly curly hair blonde hair, scared beyond belief with nobody to lean on. Eleven, and away from my parents for the first time. It was daunting for a wee child.

I wanted to give each of them a squeeze.

Now, I was beginning my seventh year, almost done with having to endure these moronic conversations with my peers.

“I find it hard to believe that even the famous _Potter_ could escape the dark lord twice,” Es sneered, lowering her voice.

If it had been another student, any other student, I think she would have had very little trouble believing the story.

It just happened to be Harry, who was famous before he could speak, and who conveniently belonged to our competing house. It was Harry, who demolished our house team over and over again in Quidditch most years, a team that Esmerelda proudly supported with fierce loyalty.

It was Harry Potter. He _had_ to be using this for some twisted gain.

I kept my gaze steady. “You can die on that hill, Es, but the rest of us have enough wit to see through the Ministry’s propaganda. Merlin help the world, to think _you_ might be graduating at the end of the year.”

Esmerelda clenched her jaw. Her hands balled into fists on the table in front of her.

She wanted to push this further, I could see it in her eyes, but she wasn’t stupid enough to try and have an actual go at me. I could hex her into oblivion, and she was pathetic at spells. We had duelled once and she had lost, horribly, and since then she toyed me very carefully- like a chess game, but never directly.

Again, pathetic.

“Margaret Applebottom,” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out.

The first student, a tiny little thing with brown pigtails, started to shakily climb the steps to be sorted.

Bitterly, Es broke eye contact first, putting her chin on her hand to glare at the first year instead of me.

I turned too, grateful she had caved- I really hadn’t wanted to miss the ceremony, but I would have played her game all night if she had made me.

The small girl shut her eyes tightly as the hat was placed on her head, clutching the sides of the stool so tightly that her knuckles were going white.

“Hufflepuff!” The hat screamed. The Hufflepuff table erupted in applause.

Every professor clapped politely- all but one.

I glanced back up to the toad woman, wondering when Dumbledore was going to tell us that we had a giant, stinky rat in our midst, and that we were about to be thrown into a Ministry conspiracy as though we were a bunch of sheep.


	4. 4. The Brewing of a Plan

Classes dragged by the next day.

I had no classes with any of my friends until the end of day, where we found ourselves together in Defense Against the Dark Arts. As expected, it was _not_ the exciting class that we had been hoping for in our seventh year. Even the twins thrived in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where the focus was less on books and more on action, but it was abundently clear that none of us were going to excel this year.

DADA was different now. With the toad woman at the front of the room, standing upright like there was a puppeteer behind her controlling her movements. We were beiing forced into silent reading of the text, in _defense against the bloody dark arts._ Umbridge watched us closely, pink and puffy, ensuring we were doing exactly what she had asked.

The twins, bored after the first ten minutes, had complained loudly and created an outburst of giggles throughout the class.

The toad woman did not like that.

Her eyes had narrowed into slits. Umbridge set her sights on Fred and George with a fury that was surely only going to grow larger with each passing week that she had to teach them. She sized them up like a snake, slithering down the rows and rows of students until she stood over them at the back of the class. She was enjoying that she was towering above them in this moment. She felt power in acting like a dictator.

“I’ve heard about you two,” she had chippered. Her sing-song voice somehow seemed to heed a warning. “That will be the first and only outburst that you display in my classroom. Any further disruptions and you will find yourselves in detention.”

Not much of a threat, if I'm honest. Detention was basically their second home.

The twins had dissolved into smiles. They glanced at each other quickly, trying their hardest not to laugh at her ridiculous attempts to ridicule them. 

Umbridge had slammed her little pudgy hands on their desk then, silencing them. The echo of her palms hitting the wood had rung throughout the classroom, creating the exact reaction that she had wanted. Nobody moved.

“I will make an example out of you two,” she said, looking down her nose to meet the twins' eyes. This one was unmistakeably a warning.

I looked back at them as she trotted past my desk to return to her post at the front of the room.

I raised a questioning eyebrow. I don't know who this lady thought she was, but she was cleary unaware that she was opening a can of gollyworms that she was not going to be able to fix once it was done. 

The twins stared after her, their faces twisted in utter disgust. Fred and George's eyes slowly met mine, as Umbridge tip-toed to the front of the room, and an unspoken decision was made in that moment. The first target of the year had been chosen. Perhaps the _only_ target of the year.

I turned back around, watching as Umbridge adjusted her fluffy undershirt after a moment of weakness, right infront of twenty pairs of resentful eyes. She glanced up at her class, still flattening the chest of her blouse. All of her students were staring at her- waiting for instruction, or perhaps permission, on what she would like them to do next.

“Read,” she demanded.

 _Oh._ I thought, watching her eyes scan over each student in order. One by one, like numbers on a page. _We were going to make an example out of **you.** _

The class seemed to go on for hours. I read over the same paragraph ten times, and then realized I hadn't been absorbing a single word of it, and went over it another ten times. The textbooks she had brought in as requirement were dull and full of utter shit. It should have been considered a crime that we were forced to purchase these. Their only use should be as a doorstop. There was not a single thing about defensive spells, nothing about the differing dangerous magic, dark magic, that we would surely could come across in our lifetime at some point or another, even if last years events hadn't happened.

As I read, trying to focus despite myself, I could hear the large clock at the front of the room ticking over and over. The sound was so distracting, so much more entertaining than the material, forcing me to count each and every second that I was forced to waste my time in this twat's classroom.

The four of us gathered outside immediately after class. Umbridge had followed us out, making sure she gave the four of us a one-over, a reminder that she was monitoring us, before scurrying down the corridor.

“The audacity!” Fred shouted as soon as she was out of ear shot. He slammed his textbook down on the bench.

“Didn’t know speaking was considered an Unforgivable Curse,” George grumbled.

Fred let out a frustrated breath, bringing his hands through his hair. I slid down next to him on the bench.

This year was going to be an absolute mess.

“Pathetic oaf of a woman,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“You are absolutely correct,” Fred said into his hands.

George dropped his own textbook loudly on the floor and kicked it toward Lee, who had been eagerly waiting to receive it. Winding his leg backward, Lee returned it, sending it spiralling past George and smashing against the wall, the sound of the spine cracking rang out like a celebration.

“She’s going to be a hard one,” George said. He jogged past us to retrieve the beaten textbook.

“We can’t do anything in class,” I said, my mind racing. I was already trying to formulate how we could make her crack, make her regret the way she had looked at the twins. I have never wanted to knock a professor down a peg so badly in my life. “It’s too silent in there. Did you see how she watches us?

“Like a bloody owl!” Lee agreed, jumping from foot to foot as he waited to stop George’s next pass.

“It’ll have to be either between classes or after hours," I said, and Fred finally dropped his hands to look at me. "If we’re going to do anything.”

 _“If?”_ Fred snorted, nudging me with his elbow.

I met his eyes and he shook his head, like I had lost my touch by even considering that we would move past this without punishment.

Fred leaned forward, the sleeves of his robes sliding down his arms to expose a freckle-kissed bare arm underneath. I knew what was coming before he even moved a muscle. Fred lifted his hand and mocked a gentle punch to my cheek, pressing his warm knuckles against the side of my cheek.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Or,” Fred said slowly, eyes still locked on mine. He pulled back his hand and lifted a single finger, pressing it to my nose. “We can do it when she’s teaching a class that we aren’t in.”

Quickly, he squeezed my nose tightly and twisted, sending burning tears to my eyes almost immediately. Swatting him, I grabbed his arm and tugged him downward, latching onto his robes for some control. I tugged, hard. I was trying to pull him to my lap, to get him in a position where I could use my own fist and rub it through his hair. It was a bloody rip off that he was so much taller than me, so much bigger, that I lacked little control when fighting back without a wand.

Fred smirked, shoving me off of him with one push. Easy.

“Let’s do it when Ron’s in her class,” George said. “Blame it all on him.”

“For the last time,’ I snapped, rubbing my nose, “Leave Ron alone.”

“Fine,” George let out an exasperated sigh, leaning down to swipe up his beaten-up book. “We can discuss it after dinner.”

That evening, we ate a quick dinner in the Great Hall before descending to the school grounds to figure out our plans. I had brought down my two blankets from home, as always, which had been sitting on the top of my trunk just waiting to be used. The guys understood how much I liked being out here, even when it was a little bit brisk, especially on the first night back. It was nice to have a breath of fresh air away from everyone else.

I smiled to myself as I waved out the blankets, staring out toward the forest. The pinks and oranges had consumed the sky, dancing through the sunset like a choreographed routine, illuminating everything in warmth.

We took our seats in a line, stretching our legs out in front of us, watching the day fade away.

Hagrid stepped outside momentarily down the hill. He looked around, like he had been expecting us, and waved.

We waved back.

The plan was decided that night, on that blanket in the grass. In a week’s time, if Fred and George’s new invention worked properly, we were going to set off Scream Squares in toad woman’s first-year class. The idea of sending in these discs that explode into different screams, _fearful_ screams, in a class full of already on-edge first years was hilarious. It was the path that ensured the most destruction.

The product wasn’t exactly created yet, though the twins had been working on it all summer. They had recorded screams from friends, from Quidditch matches, from scary programs on the radio. Before I had come to the Burrow, they had mentioned it in their letters, so I made sure to record a bunch of screams from horror movies that I had at home- films that they probably didn’t even know existed.

It was one of one hundred things they were working on, but it was obvious even before its conception that it was going to be a hit.

We stayed out on that grass until it was dark, nearing curfew. The air grew colder, nipping at our skin, but none of us wanted to go inside. I had sunk down to lay on my back, watching the sky change colors above me until all of the colours eventually faded away.

The twins stayed seated, animatedly talking about how they’d get these squares compact enough to be easily concealable, and to be undetectable until they were set off. Fred leaned backward toward me, resting one of his hands in between us, dangerously close to my thigh.

I risked a look at him, wondering if the heat in my cheeks from this invisible moment was just me, but he hadn’t seemed to have noticed that his knuckles had grazed my skin. He was fully engrossed in the conversation with his brother.

I quickly looked away, back to the sky. Fred and George started breaking down the technicalities of building and tweaking the sounds to ring out consecutively, all things that went above my head.

Lee had eventually laid down next to me, knowing we had only reached the beginning point of a twin turbine. They were going to have a mind for only each other for the next half-hour or so, there was no point in getting in the way.

Lee and I didn’t speak much, we just stared up at the sky and enjoyed the fresh, brisk air. I wondered, for a moment, what he was thinking about. I wondered if he was glad to have another person to sit back with while the twins were the twins. I know that I was.

I could almost feel Lee’s excitement beside me as he listened to them talk. He was itching to get back into this chaos.

I was fully expecting detention. We could get away without being spotted if we were smart, but all it took was a few questions to some students or a discussion with other professors for Umbridge to figure out exactly who was _always_ responsible for any mischief happening at Hogwarts.

If the detention was no longer than three weekends, I could stomach it, but the dread I felt while looking at her made me think she was going to make us suffer. Blimey, she’d probably force us to hand scrub her pink linens every Saturday until Christmas Break.

As it got colder, and our legs started to shake and our teeth started to chatter, we gathered up our stuff and made our way back inside. The castle was quiet, almost empty. Most students were already up in their dorms and getting ready for bed.

The twins continued to babble all of the way to the dungeons. Even when we had arrived at the Slytherin common room, and I had said my goodnights, they had barely stopped to wave me off.

I pushed through the common room door, expecting it to be empty and silent. I was surprised to see Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle lounging out by the fire.

They all turned to look at me as I crashed their party.

“Cutting it a little close, Aurora, aren’t we?” Goyle heckled, smacking his lips together loudly as he devoured a sweet. “Likely already lost us 20 points before the end of the first week.”

I rolled my eyes, resisting the urge to flip him off as I passed them to head to bed.

I may be responsible for a _lot_ of points being removed from Slytherin over the years, but I wouldn’t peg Goyle as the prize of the Slytherin house either. The boy had one brain cell in his entire body and it was reserved for kissing Malfoy’s ass.

Plus, it irked me that he felt comfortable enough to mug off someone two years his senior. 

“Piss off, Goyle. She may keep horrid company but she could definitely kick your ass,” Draco said calmly.

I paused with my hand on the door to the girl’s dormitory as Crabbe burst into laughter at Goyle’s expense.

I glanced over my shoulder, immediately meeting Draco’s eyes. Though I tried, I could not read them. Was he challenging me, or did he think that had been a compliment? Malfoy and I had admittedly never gotten on, but had just taken to ignoring each other for the last couple of years.

I thought about telling them both off then, as Draco’s straight face watched me carefully. I could easily make them _both_ cry in a mere instant if I wanted to, all of four of us knew that, but as Draco looked away and resumed his conversation with his goons- I turned away too, feeling uncertain, and pushed through the door to the girls dormitory. 

Draco thought I was a mockery of a witch, being a muggle-born Slytherin. He had somehow managed to look down on me from the moment his expensive and shiny shoes stepped foot onto the school grounds, even when I towered over him when he was a measly little his first year.

I could be the most powerful witch in our house and he’d still consider me an abomination.

So what the bloody hell was that almost compliment?


	5. 5. The Flutter of a Fairy

I was grateful that the next day, I had my friends in most of my classes. Lee was in my potions class, and Fred was in my Transfiguration class, and both of the twins were in my Charms class. I was particularly grateful for that last one, they were ridiculously entertaining in Charms. So much so that Flitwick had to try his best not to laugh every time they acted up.

My last class of the day was my holy grail. I rushed down to Care of Magical Creatures, trying to beat the rest of the students, so I could have a word with Hagrid before class. I loved getting to know which creatures we’d be dealing with this year, and it was exceptionally special to have a one-on-one conversation with the professor.

Hagrid seemed just as happy to see me as I barreled toward him down the hill, juggling my textbooks in my arms.

“Ay, slow down, yer gon’ scare the fairies.”

I halted immediately, feet skidding to a halt in the dirt. I dropped my bag beside me with a loud thump, staring at Hagrid in disbelief. “Fairies?”

He smiled from ear to ear. “I knew you’d be excited- c’mere, take a look.”

I rushed toward him, leaving my books in the grass, and went around the corner to where he had placed a few tree trunks- likely collecting them from the forest. Little fairies glittered and spun by the holes in the trunk, busying themselves in their home.

Hagrid leaned down and placed his hand near one of the openings. He held a few berries in his large palms, just in front of the entry way. Within seconds a fairy poked her head out. She glanced at Hagrid, and then at me, looking a little weary.

“Ah, it’s fine, she’s a friend,” Hagrid encouraged.

The fairy fluttered, pushing her way out of her trunk. I watched in awe as this little creature soared onto Hagrid’s hand. She was so tiny, so magical, she seemed to quite literally glitter in the afternoon sun. Her wings were a beautiful purple and light blue, like a clouded sky, and they fluttered so fast that you could only catch a glimpse of them when she froze in caution.

Her feet landed on the heel of Hagrid’s hand. After a momentary pause, where she looked up at me skeptically, she excitedly gathered up the blueberries and fluttered upward and disappeared back into her trunk, leaving a trail of sparkly powder over Hagrid’s hand.

“Their way of saying thank ‘ya,” Hagrid commented. He nudged his hand toward me, realizing that I had been staring. “Their wings produce this fairy dust ‘’ya see. Collect enough and you can sell to make some pretty tricky potions.”

I craned my neck to take a closer look. The dust was silver, so finely mulled and light. I couldn’t believe I had seen both a fairy _and_ their fairy dust in the same moment.

“Touch it if ‘ye want,” Hagrid encouraged, bringing his palm closer to me. “M’ not gonna be makin any potions anytime soon.”

“Really?” I asked, staring up in wonder.

He smiled, nodding. “Go on.”

I slowly pressed my index finger into the powder. I had been expecting grit, like crafting glitter that my mum had in the storage closet, but was surprised to find a silkier, soft texture. Lifting my finger to my nose, I inspected the glitter carefully. It was amazing how much glitter could be shaken off a single fairy’s teeny wings in one moment.

“Wow,” I whispered, accidentally blowing most of the glitter off of my finger. “-Oop.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” Hagrid laughed, brushing his own hands of on the front of his shirt. The glitter fell to the grass, illuminating it. “There’s plenty more where that came from if they take a likin’ to ye.”

I watched the fairies pass by the small breaks in the logs over and over again. How many were in each trunk- five, fifteen? It was hard to tell because they moved so quickly. I could be watching the same fairy zoom past forty times and think it was a different one each time.

To say my first Care of Magical Creatures class of the year was the best class thus far would be an understatement. I was practically bouncing up and down as Hagrid showed us a few fairies, three more and the one I had met. He explained how to care for them, how to gain their trust, and their mannerisms. My heart could burst with how absolutely _thrilled_ I was for this year of studies.

A fairy? On my first day? Bloody insane.

After class, Hagrid had asked if I could tend to the fairies on Sundays. He’d help, of course, but he wanted me to get comfortable with them in case he had to leave the school grounds for any reason. They were particularly shy, he had said, and if they were left alone for too long, they’d descend back into the forest.

He really hadn’t had to ask. We both knew I was itching to get involved in any way possible.

I left class with a bounce in my step. I felt on top of the world. The thought of the toad woman ruining DADA for my last year was barely on my mind. I was going to be tending to _fairies_ this year. Bloody _fairies._

I could not wait to tell the guys.

I found the twins sitting outside their common room, waiting for me, sending a ball of light back and forth to one another with their wands.

I had practically run to them, a smile consuming my entire face. I rambled, going into detail about the fairies and what Hagrid had asked of me- of the _glitter_ that _I had actually touched._ Although I knew that magical creatures were very low on their list of interests, their smiles grew as they listened to me go on and on about my class.

“Isn’t that incredible?” I said, falling down onto the bench next Fred. “I’m overwhelmed.”

Fred smiled, patting my leg. “Happy for you darling. Can’t say a class has _ever_ given me such pleasure.”

“You made out with Angelina in the back of Muggle Studies once,” George pointed out.

Fred leaned back against the wall. “Comment still stands. I think fairies have won.”

“Definitely,” I agreed, still out of breath.

“Who needs snogging when you have fairies?” George said.

We all turned to look at him, confusion etched on our faces.

He pressed his lips together tightly and nodded in regret. “I revoke that comment, played it back in my head just then.”

“Good idea,” Fred laughed, “Unless your serious, because I think I might know a girl who can get you a fairy for _all_ of your needs.”

“Oi,” I snapped, glaring at them. “You leave my fairies alone.”

“Forgot to mention,” Fred said, turning to me. “I think the Scream Squares are complete.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

That was remarkably fast.

George reached over Fred and handed me a tiny black square, no bigger than a die. I stared at it in awe, the prototypes from the summer had been the size of a kitchen plate.

“I know, I know,” Fred said, watching my reaction. “We’re geniuses.”

“So I just press and toss?” I asked, twirling the square in my fingers.

“Yes, but-,” Fred snatched the square out of my hands, holding it gingerly in his palm. “They can be sensitive, and we can’t have them going off until the big day.”

I shook my head. “Bloody brilliant.”

“Well, your screams helped a bunch,” Fred said, handing the square back to George, who immediately buried it in his robe’s pockets and looked around the corridor, hoping nobody had seen.

“They really up the scare level,” George agreed. “That one scream- that woman, I’d think I was about to be skinned alive hearing that.”

“Glad I could help,” I smiled. I was excited to be more involved than just helping with actually pulling off the event on the day of. It was always fun to plan and take part in the pranks, but I had never been smart enough with this stuff to actually help them come up with these _incredible_ tricks.

“You did good,” Fred winked, lightly mocking a punch to my jaw.

“What class do you have next Tuesday morning?” George asked, “We have free period, so we’re in the clear.”

I sighed. “Potions, but I can ask for a bathroom pass around that time.”

“Yikes,” Fred let out a low breath. “Snape. Tricky.”

I shrugged. “Head of house, hoping he likes me enough to just turn a blind eye.”

Fred let out a choked laugh.

“Not likely,” George smirked. “We could move it to Wednesday- second years instead.”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head immediately. “It _has_ to be first years. Let’s just stick to the plan, it’ll be fine.”

Lee appeared in the hall then, robes half hanging off his body, hair awry. He let out a huff as he spotted us, storming toward us and collapsing onto the bench in utter defeat.

“You boys better beat Slytherin this week,” He murmured, glaring at the twins. “Or I have to say all Hufflepuff’s have bigger muscles than me over the speakers at the end of the game.”

We all stared at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh shove off, it was a bet.”


	6. 6. The Toad and the Threat

I flocked to the stands to watch Gryffindor play Slytherin on the Friday evening. As the twins were playing, and Lee was commentating, I usually attended the Gryffindor matches alone. Although I _should_ be on the Slytherin side, rooting for my own house, Beatrice and Florence were studying for their Divination paper, using the empty library to their advantage, and I'd rather avoid Esmerelda.

I ditched all of my house gear and climbed the enemy’s bleachers, looking for some familiar faces to sit with.

I spotted Ron and Hermione straight away. They were sitting with Luna and Neville, who were both decked out head to toe in Gryffindor attire. Luna had even plastered her face in red and gold face paint. 

I slid past them, saying a quick hello above all of the cheers, and took a seat next to Ron to spectate.

I didn’t necessarily want my house to _lose,_ but I did find joy in Fred and George obliterating _any_ team _,_ including my own. They tended to wipe the floor with the other teams, mopping up the tears from the enemy’s stands with their opponents' robes as they flew off of their brooms and to the ground in a deafted hill of bodies.

It was also a bonus to listen to Malfoy’s excuses in the common room for the following few nights, especially after a loss to Gryffindor. He hadn’t secured his gloves tight enough, or there had been dirt kicked up into his eye, whatever he could think of to provide reason as to why he hadn’t caught the snitch. Taking ownership was not his strong point.

I’d be fine with either win, really, but I always rooted for the twins.

Luna let out a loud roar from down the line, cupping her hands over her mouth. This immediately encouraged other Gryffindor fans on the bleachers to follow suit. The slow rumbling had turned into a loud, mighty roar- like the thunder warning us of incoming lightening- Potter.

Hermione cupped her hands over her mouth too, letting out a high-pitched roar of her own. She nudged Ron lightly, encouraging him to join in. Unsurprisingly, he didn't.

I admired Luna and her absolute thrill for Gryffindor matches, even though it wasn’t her house either. Luna didn’t care about being stared at, or ridiculed by members of her own house, though I doubt that it ever came. She was such a pure person that I couldn’t see anyone taking a jab at her for enjoying herself, even if they did find her a bit odd. There was nothing Luna did with malice in her heart, even while she cheered for Gryffindor.

I swear to Merlin, if I did hear anyone poking any fun at her, I would tell them off straight away. She was _not Loony,_ she was Luna. There should not even be a discussion on the matter.

As the game started, both teams took off into the air on their brooms. The sky was full of green and red cloaks, swirling around each other like an abstract in motion.

I looked around for the twins and found them pretty quickly, on opposite sides of the arena, both already heckling Flint, who had managed to get caught in between them.

Soon, everyone was taking off in different directions, a cluster of quick and hard to follow movements. Lee’s voice echoed through the stadium, giving me a helpful play-by-play about what was happening above me.

Lee was exceptionally good at this. I’m sure he could have a future in it if he wanted. His commentary was actually one of the reasons that I hard started to enjoy watching Quidditch in second year. Mind you, he was not a favorite of the professors, but I’m sure he could be if he cut the sleazy jokes and clear bias. We all thought he was a bloody riot.

Fred slung a Bludger toward Malfoy, who dodged it easily barely glancing in Fred’s direction, but George had managed to come up the rear and send it flying backward. Within seconds of George's swing, the Bludger crashed into Flint like a wrecking ball, just as he was coming up behind Harry.

The crowd erupted into supportive cheers.

Harry was too fast to watch, it gave me a headache. I could see why Malfoy was so bitter all of the time. He was _good_ as a Seeker, Malfoy, but he could never compare to Harry’s natural talent and speed. Though Harry sometimes he took his time in spotting the snitch, and didn’t busy himself with what was happening around him, when he was moving, he was so quick and precise that he was a blur that was hard to spot.

Malfoy needed to take a page from Potter’s book, trust your team to protect you and focus on the snitch.

The Slytherin team had gotten possession of a Quaffle, and a Flint was now bustling through the arena, and through the opposing team toward the goal. The crowd began to shout, the Gryffindor side especially loud with their protests. Just as Flint lifted his arm to toss the Quaffle at the Keeper- Fred slammed a Bludger toward Bole. When it hit, Bole immediately lost control of his broom, and went soaring into Flint.

They smacked right into each other, loudly, and Flint lost his grip on the Quaffle. Gryffindor immediately took posession. Flint and Bole both lost control of their brooms, spinning in quick circles, intertwined with each other as they dropped a few feet downward before regaining their control.

I let out a loud scream of encouragement for Fred, throwing my arms in the air in celebration.

_What a hit!_

As cheers sounded around me, I caught Hermione’s eye from just down the bench. She quickly looked away, a small smile tugging on the corner of her lips as she clapped in celebration with the rest of us.

Gryffindor won with Harry catching the Snitch.

Lee had taken the microphone in the last second and shouted: “I HAVE BIGGER MUSCLES THAN ALL OF HUFFLE-“ but was promptly cut short by, assumedly, one of the professors.

The fans were wild with excitement, stomping on the ground of the bleachers and chanting different songs, all in support of Gryffindor. Winning against Slytherin on their first match of the year against each other was always extra special. I had been around to see both sides- when Slytherin won, the common room was alive for _days._

As everyone rushed the field to see and congratulate their housemates. I followed behind, letting Hermione and Ron go on to Harry, and waited for the crowd to separate for the twins. These two always managed to have a little fan club surrounding them by the game’s end.

They were beaming from ear to ear as I approached, sweat trickling down their faces.

“Bloody brilliant,” I said, reaching up to give them both a tight squeeze.

“Careful,” George laughed, glancing over his shoulder as the Slytherin’s pushed through to get to the showers. “You are fraternizing with the enemy.”

I watched Malfoy and Flint storm through a couple of first years, nearly sending them to the floor. Moments like these are when I relished when my house lost. Malfoy, above all of them, was the sorest loser in all of Hogwarts. Just own your loss and be better for the next game.

“You guys were great, much better than your performance in the back yard this summer.”

“Have to save the magic for the real matches,” Fred wiped his brown with the forearm of his shirt. He glanced at the sweat gathering on his sleeve and held it out for me, raising his eyebrows. “Here, want some of my fairy dust?”

I shoved him gently, pushing his arm away from my face, ‘Oh, shove off.”

“You should come to the common room,” George said as we started walking toward the change rooms. The crowd had noticeably thinned, the chants further away and quieting as they hustled toward back up to the castle for a celebration.

“Sneaking in during the first week…” I started, knowing that it was a risky idea, espeically with our upcoming plans. We would be pushing our luck before we even began. 

“When has that ever stopped you?” Fred asked, his broom hanging over his shoulder. “If anyone tattles, I’ll hit ‘em with these two Bludgers.”

He held up a fist, _his_ Bludgers in question.

“Plus you’ve been cordially invited by the winning team,” George added.

Oh yes, Professor McGonagall, don’t take away any of my house points for breaking the rules- the students who got you your first Gryffindor win of the season personally invited me to this event. I doubted even _she,_ the Gryffindor team's biggest supporter, would let that slide. 

We reached the doors to the change room. The rumblings of the team were seeping out to the field. George took his free and and thrusted open the door, the cheering of the Gryffindor team erupting into the now empty arena.

He glanced over his shoulder at me.

“Just come,” and he disappeared inside.

Fred stayed back a moment, still holding his broom over his shoulder. He pushed his sweat-filled hair back and off of his forehead, making it stick up in all sorts of directions. 

“I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady, alright?” he said, his eyes watching me carefully.

It was as though I had already made up my mind.

“Alright, alright,” I said, watching his face contort into a smile. It was his second win of the night.

He turned away from me, pressing his hand to the door ofthe Gyffindor change rooms. I almost started away myself, to head back up to the castle on my own. But just as quickly as we had begun to make our way away from one another, Fred had stopped in his tracks, his hand frozen on the door in front of him.

I paused too, and turned back to him, curiously.

“Yeah?”

“You know,” he said and he looked over at me, his lips pressed tightly together. Tearing his hand away from the door, Fred swung his broom from his shoulders down into his palms. “Sometimes, it’s an awful piss off that you’re in Slytherin.”

I smiled at him, knowing that feeling in it's entirety. “Freddie, I feel the exact same about Gryffindor. Have for years.”

“Absolute rubbish,” he scoffed, shaking his head. With one last cheeky smile, he pushed himself through the doors and into the rumbling change room. The muffled chatter from the rowdy showers grew into loud cheers as he entered, consuming the empty arena, and leaving me in the quiet as the door drifted shut.

Sighing, I turned and headed back up to the castle. I could take my time, I had to find a way to look both busy and innocent while I waited for the twins anyway. If I was just lingering in front of the common room, any professor would take one look at me and conclude that I was trying to get inside. It wasn’t as unheard of as you may think, other students were let into other house common rooms often, but there was _technically_ a rule against it.

I had gotten detention for it once in third year. I hadn’t been caught again since, and it was admittedly a frequent hobby of mine. I was fairly comfortable with knowing what tipped the professors off to these types of shenangins now, and lingering in front of a common room of a house that you didn't belong to was the golden ticket. 

As I walked through the cobblestone path that lead to the school, I spotted the outline of an annoying pink blob in the distance. She stood stoicly aginst the stones of the castle walls, as still as the statues that littered the halls, guarding the doors to the school with her pudgy little hands clasped in front of her.

My defenses kicked in, putting up an imaginary wall around me. Umbridge lying in wait, all on her own, could not be a good sign.

I kept my pace steady, fully intending on blowing past her with no regard- since I didn’t commonly associate with rats in my free time.

She seemed to have other plans for how this would go.

As I met her, shoulder to shoulder, just about passing her, Umbridge cleared her throat in that _annoying_ manner, a sound so high pitch that Fang must have heard it down in Hagrid’s hut, which told me that she had something that she would like to say.

I stopped in my stride, slowly turning to face her.

Umbridge hadn’t granted me the same respect. As I looked to her, she was still staring out at the Quidditch pitch in the distancec, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, unmoving like she had been petrified.

“Straight to bed now, Miss Aurora,” she said joyfully. 

I stared at her, biting my tongue, _hard_. 

“Not quite curfew yet, Professor,” I reminded her. Since she hadn’t granted me the utmost pleasure of a face-to-face conversation, I deduced that this little spat was over and brushed past her, starting toward the doors to the school.

“Oh, now that’s where you are incorrect,” she called after me, and I slowed my pace for just an instant. “As I have just told you where you are to be.”

I almost stilled, mostly in shock that she thought she had that much control here, but I simply could not give her that pleasure. I forced myself to keep walking into the school, not looking back to potentially meet her eyes. If she was now looking at me to ensure I had heard her, if she had wanted a reaction, I was not going to give her the advantage. There would be no reaction here tonight. That reaction would come Tuesday.

No, I was going to the common room now without a doubt, and a part of me hoped that Umbridge would follow me just to see me deliberately breaking her orders. She was a bloody nightmare. There was no way that I was going to let her think that I was even slightly afraid of her subtle threats. It was _hours_ until curfew. That oaf couldn’t simply demand that I go to bed because she decided that she wanted me there.

Her and what bloody army?

Had someone overhead the twins and I talking on the pitch? Had they snitched to Umbridge? I was fairly certain it had been just us out there at that point, but even if there had been prying ears, I highly doubted anyone, even my fellow Slytherins, would have run and ratted us out to Umbridge. There wasn’t a student there that would have cared enough to do that.

No, she likely just assumed. Fred, George, Lee and I had probably been brought up numerous times since she had taken her post. We were likely the first students that she had been warned about from the other professors. She might have just been put onto us and wanted to ensure she told me my place before we took advantage of her. Not likely, ma'am, I didn't quite care about being put in my place.

I couldn’t help but think about Tuesday and the Scream Squares. Umridge was going to know that it was us immediately, that was obvious now. Whether we were at the scene of the crime or not, her little upturned nose was going to sniff us out the second those squares exploded.

I smiled, despite myself. I kind of liked knowing that I held all of the power to ruin her life right in the palm of my hands.


	7. 7. The Confliction of The Heart

Lee had appeared at the Fat Lady before the twins. He had let me in without explanation, ranting and raving about the game. As we walked into the party, the common room was already going absolutely mad. It was packed, students of all years crammed together in celebration. Music was blaring from every corner of the room, making it hard to hear Lee detail one of Fred’s hits to me. The room had clearly been silenced by a silencing charm, I hadn’t heard a peep of this outside in the corridor.

We pushed through the groups of students, as they danced and cheered, growing louder in praise each time a member of their winning team came through the door.

I caught a couple glances from some first years, who seemed uncertain about the presence of a Slytherin in their common room, but I wasn’t too concerned. Once the other Gryffindor’s welcomed me and showed them this wasn’t as big of an issue as they felt it was, they’d get over it.

Lee and I found Harry and Ron standing near the fire place in an excited discussion. Ron’s cheeks were rosy and flushed, and he was talking extremely close to Harry, his hands flying in all directions, mocking the movements of critical plays that individual players had pulled off on their brooms tonight. 

“Good job today, Harry,” I interrupted, clasping him on the shoulders. He turned with a smile, happy to stop living through the highlight reel of the game he had just won. “You _must_ be thinking about going pro.”

Harry laughed politely. “I’m not that good, I’m just better than Malfoy.”

I patted his shoulders. “And that is a fact.”

Ron, who was clearly already drinking, threw his arms around both me and Harry, cutting Lee out of the group- his lips were glossy with slobber, eyes heavy with the weight of the Firewhiskey.

“I’mma be on that team next year, mark my bloody words. I’ll be better than the twins too.”

“Me too, for Slytherin of course,” I said, nodding at him intently. I tried to appear as serious as I could muster.

Both Harry and Ron glanced at each other, and then back to me, forcing themselves to smile in response to the impossible dream that I had just outlined for them. They had seen me this summer, they knew that I was the _worst_ Quidditch player that may have ever existed- not even just at Hogwarts, likely in the world.

As I burst out laughing, and they realized I was just joking with them, they dissolved into relieved laughter as well.

“Mate,” Harry said through stitches, “I was going to say-.”

“Oi, who let you in?” George appeared out of nowhere, sliding in between Ron and I. He pushed his brother back gently, pulling his arm from around my shoulders. As Ron stumbled backward, George seemed to find amusement in his brother's drunken state.

“You guys took too bloody long,” I whined, reaching forward to try and steady Ron. “Lee let me in.”

“Freddie’s outside waiting for you,” George said, nodding toward the portrait. “I can go and grab him.”

I shook my head, grabbing his arm to stop him. “No, I’ve got it. You won your first match of the year-go celebrate”

I pushed through the mass of people gathered at the center of the room. There seemed to have been a small crowed that was growing around Harry, mostly young students and love-struck girls gawking over him like he was the messiah of Quidditch. Tonight, he technically was.

I passed by Ginny on the couch, her lips locked with Dean Thomas’, barely coming up for air enough to notice there was a party going on around them. I couldn't help but smirk with pride, two of her brothers were four feet away and the girl did not even remotely give a shit. She was a lot more like Fred and George than even she realized.

I pushed through the portrait.

Fred was sat on the bench next to the Fat Lady. He looked up as I made my way into the hallway, and then back down to the wand that he was twirling in his hands, before quickly doing a double take.

“Lee,” I explained, before he even had to ask.

Fred stood and walked to me, slinging his arm around my shoulders loosely. He let out a bothered sigh.

“Well, Lee stole my thunder. It’s been my job to escort you in since third year,” he stared at the Fat Lady, waving his hand in front of me as though I was the guest of honor. The Fat Lady wore a look of disapproval, regretting having to let me enter for a second time tonight. “Fortuna Major.”

She swung open without any complaints, though her expression of uncertainty never wavered.

The pair of us walked into the party intertwined with each other. The weight of Fred’s arm around my body was not lost on me. The strange sense of security it provided was always welcome without complaint. I almost reached up to grab the hand that was hanging next to my chest, to touch those fingers that had skimmed my thigh and swept my cheek just days ago. I didnt.

Unlike his twin, Fred had immediately taken note of his little sister swapping spit with Dean Thomas in front of the entire common room.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, sliding his arm off of me. He looked at me sympathetically. “One minute.”

Fred walked up behind the couch, kneeling down so he was level with Ginny and Dean’s moving faces. He cringed in disgust as their lips moved against each other’s. Slowly, he raised his hands and planted them on each of their foreheads, pushing them away from each other roughly.

As Ginny shrieked in surprise, eyes full of fury when she saw her brother sitting there, Fred began to talk to them both, his hands still occupying both of their faces. Dean was frozen against Fred’s palm, stunned and too nervous to move.

Despite the entertainment, I headed back to my friends and found George on one of the couches close to the fire. He was laughing loudly with Lee and a couple of Gryffindor girls who had gathered on the floor next to George’s legs.

I hopped on the couch beside George, sitting on the back of it so that my legs were hanging beside George’s body. Lee glanced up from his spot on the floor, gesturing to the girl next to him with wide, and hopeful eyes.

Ah, so this was his new love interest of the year.

I nodded at him, she was pretty, and by her body language, she seemed to be enjoying him too. She kept leaning into him when he spoke, laughing every time he said something funny, and her hands would reach forward, trailing down his arm as he spoke to her.

Fred joined us shortly after, bringing his sister’s torture to an end. He fell onto the couch on the other side of me.

“Now that we’re all here,” I said loudly, over the music. I motioned for them to all lean in for a chat, so that they could hear me. I didn’t mind that the girls were listening too.

They all leaned forward with interest.

“As I was walking back up to the castle, just after the match, the toad woman was waiting for me at the doors to the castle,” I began. George groaned preemptively in agony. “She quite literally gave me a bedtime.”

“She _what?”_ Fred’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

Lee immediately started to crack up at my feet. I couldn’t help but laugh too, in shock of course, because this woman was just fueling our fire with every passing day.

I nodded at them, noting all of their confused expressions.

“She told me to head straight to bed, like she was my mother, at six thirty.”

George turned to Lee, “She say anything to you?”

Lee shook his head. So, she had singled me out.

“Unless she managed to hear us all of the way in the pitch, I think she’s well aware of our little gang,” I watched them carefully, hoping that they understood exactly what this meant for us. This was not going to be the easiest first prank that we ever pulled. It was going to be harder to pull the wool over her eyes than we had hoped, but the reward would surely be worth it.

“So, detention is in our future,” Fred said, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Ah, the rush of a little bit of a threat never hurt anybody.”

“It hasn’t even been a bloody week. We’re famous,” George joked, clapping his hands together. 

Of course the twins were proud of notority. 

“Oaf is _seeking out_ a problem,” Lee grunted. 

“We got the map back from Harry,” Fred said, leaning toward me. "Take it tonight."

Just then Ron and Harry passed by the couch, Ron with a half full drink in his hand. As Ron brushed shoulders with Fred, Fred snatched the drink out of his hand and immediately took a swig, turning his back to his brother. Ron held out his arms in protest, glaring at the back of his brother’s head-but since Fred had decided there was nothing to address and kept his back to his brother, Ron simply rolled his eyes and walked away- flipping Fred off as he sulked toward Harry.

Fred cringed, downing the rest of the drink.

i could feel the stupid smile on my face as I watched him. He surely knew how to command a room. I found it difficult to believe that anyone had the power to resist fixating on him.

“Best keep your nose clean before Tuesday.”

“I’ll get it for you in just a second,” George nudged me. “It’s up in the dorm.”

Lee recoiled backward in laughter, his hand gently moving to rest on the shoulder of the girl beside him. I tried my best not to watch. I always hoped for a nice girl for Lee. He had these fleeting crushes, where he would be madly in love with them for a month or so, but they often moved on from him rather quickly. I think he just came on too strong- something that most girls our age found hard to handle.

I often felt the opposite. I was far too closed off, able to goof around and let my guard down only among a few select people. It took me very long to be able to be myself, to allow myself to be open with people, although these guys had cracked me pretty quickly. I still found myself hiding parts of myself, the vulnerable bits, from friends like Beatrice, Florence and sorts. I was aware of how unapproachable I could be, but I really didn’t have the means to correct it.

Perhaps Lee and I should swap advice.

“Did you see Malfoy’s face?” George was laughing, mostly talking to Lee and the girls, but he nudged my arm to include me.

“Bloody pissed off he was,” I agreed, glancing down at the girls. Their eyes were wide, lust-filled even. They were thrilled to listen to Quidditch stories from one of Hogwarts’ best Beaters.

“I swear he shed a tear, you _humiliated_ him,” the strawberry blonde said, smiling brightly up at George. I noted how she gave him all of the credit- smart. Giving the twins a little ego boost was always a good move if you wanted to gain their attention.

Lee lifted his fist for George to bump, and he did- smiling ear to ear.

“Malfoy cries most nights of the year, I’d reckon,” George laughed, and the blonde- Mary, maybe, burst into laughter.

“Right into daddy’s embroidered handkerchief,” a new voice added. I knew that voice, I’d spent a fair amount of time with _that_ voice.

Not realizing she had joined us, I glanced to my side as everyone in the group laughed at her commentary. Angelina looked at me, smiling kindly, as Fred laughed with his arm draped around her. He leaned down to press his lips close to her ear- whatever he said was making her giggle and turn her focus back on him entirely.

I felt something in my stomach drop, like the premonition of incoming bad news.

Looking back to Lee and the girls on the floor, I swallowed hard- trying to concentrate on the conversation that they were having instead of the shifting of weight on the couch cushion under my feet. I couldn’t look.

Why couldn’t I look?

I was able to hang in for a few more minutes, smiling when necessary, laughing when everyone else did, but that feeling in my gut had fermented itself deep within me.

Jealousy? It couldn’t be. Fred and I were not on that level and never had been. Anger? Possibly. She _had_ been an absolute nightmare nearing the end of their relationship, and said some hideous things to him that had made me lose my cool with her, things that I would surely never forget.

I wasn’t sure what this gross, pained feeling stemmed from, but the more I thought about it- the more it _hurt._

“George,” I had said abruptly, interrupting his conversation with the blonde girl. I stared ahead, and her smiled started to fade. I felt horrible for cutting her moment with George short. “Sorry, I only need him for a moment. Can you grab that thing for me? I’m turning in.”

George smiled at Mary politely, but turned to me with a raised brow. “It’s barely nine o’clock.”

Yes, I know that George, but your brother is currently all over Angelina and I can’t explain why, but I am trying to avoid punching one of them straight in the mouth.

“Umbridge is onto me and I want to make sure next week goes seamlessly,” I excused myself, watching as his eyes flickered behind me, and then back to me.

He nodded slowly and then turned to Mary, who was waiting patiently for his attention.

“I’ll be right back,” he stood, wiping his palms on his jeans.

I jumped up quickly. George paused, looking at me curiously.

“I’ll come with you. I’ll just wait outside of the door.”

“Okay…” he said, cautiously. I could tell that he wanted to grill me on why I was being so bloody weird, but thankfully, he just nodded toward the dorms and walked with me without word.

We made our way to the dorms, me following a few steps behind George. My feet felt like they were dragging behind me. God would this ick in my stomach just _evaporate_?

George disappeared into the dorms once we had made it up the stairs, leaving me to stand against the wall just outside and listen to my thoughts. My sad, confusing, _humiliating_ thoughts. I just didn’t want to _think._ Was there a spell to shut off your internal monologue? I’d rather never think again than suffer through the next few minutes. 

I needed to leave as quickly as possible. Once I was alone I would figure out a way to force myself to get over this feeling, and then surely by tomorrow i'd be able to wake up and act like it never happened.

I looked down at the common room party. I had to focus, telling myself over and over again not to look back at that couch. The seconds George was gone felt like hours, each passing moment daring me to just take a peek because surely nothing could make this feel worse. If it couldn't make it hurt more, than why not just check up on them?

Do not look back at that couch. It will not do you _any_ good. It’s your bloody friend, for Merlin’s sake, you have no ownership over him. You’re _mates._

George appeared just then, popping out of the dormitory door with the map folded, blank, in his hands. He held it out to me and I reached forward to grab it from him, but he quickly snatched it back and held it out of my reach.

I groaned.

“What?” I wanted desperately to just leave. I _needed to leave._

“You’re upset,” He stated, as though it were fact and not question. “Why?”

I rolled my eyes and reached for the map again, but he only held it up higher out of reach.

“George,” I warned.

“You don’t have to tell me,” George said. He slowly brought the map down to me, holding it out in front of my chest.

I took it quickly.

“I’m your mate, Aylia. I can’t let you leave like this without checking if you’re alright.”

I folded the map and buried it in the pocket of my jacket. I could feel the flush spreading from my chest up to my cheeks. Great, so now it was going to be obvious that I was utterly humiliated.

I hung my head in attempt to conceal how I felt. “I’m fine.”

“Not all of us are smart,” he said gently, shoving his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

I looked at him, confused, but he was only smiling down at me sheepishly.

“What?”

He shrugged, reaching forward to give me a mock-punch to the cheek, something Fred had been doing to me since the dawn of our friendship, an action that was as familiar to me as my mother's hug. The ick in my stomach throbbed then, wanting to suffocate me. 

_Stop. Thinking. About. It._

“I’m the smart one in our little group of idiots, just remember that.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation as to what in Merlin’s name he was on about, but George just gave me a quick wink and gestured for me to head back down to the party with him.

I followed, reluctantly, staring at the back of George’s bright red head as it bobbed down the steps. He never once looked back at me. He seemed to be confident that whatever stupidity he just offered up as reassurance had landed in my head and provided comfort, but I was fairly certain he had _no_ idea why I was upset. It was something even _I_ couldn’t explain right now.

Plus, I’d reckon _I_ was the smart one out of our little bunch. I had personally never accidentally let a stink bomb off on myself. George couldn’t say the same.

George disappeared into the group of Gryffindor’s as soon as I had hit the bottom of the stairs, letting me leave without question like I had wanted. Being here without a friend by my side was a very odd feeling. I was suddenly very aware that I was somewhere I did not belong.

Pushing through the few students on the outskirts of the common room party, I pulled out my wand and the map and pressed the tip of my wand down onto the front of the Marauder’s Map.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The map came to life then, all shapes and names, intricate patterns and symbols to construct the movements of the castle onto parchment. I stood at the common room entrance, squinting down at all of the footsteps trickling by, trying to locate the toad woman. I was certain that she was lurking around the corridors, still awake, despite most professors retreating for the night.

I waved my wand again. “Lumos.”

As light cascaded from my wand, I scanned the map with a better eye. It took a moment, but sure enough I had managed to locate Umbridge right on this floor, on this very corridor, turning the corner at the end of the hallway. She _had_ been looking for me, or maybe she had just expected a Gryffindor celebration with a number of disobedient students.

Thank Merlin for this map.

I waited for her footsteps to retreat far enough away that if I rushed down the closest staircase, she would likely never catch me _even_ if she suspected she had heard me go that way. Once I was confident in the distance that she had put between us, I took off out of the common room and rushed, as quickly and quietly as possible, to the stairs.

I kept the map steady, watching her footsteps carefully. I was also keeping an eye out for any other professors who may have been monitoring the halls. _Why_ did the Slytherin common room have to be so bloody far, and _why_ did I not inherit an invisibility cloak?

I made it down the first staircase with ease, stopping to scan my surroundings and the map, and then took off in the opposite direction of Umbridge.

I could feel the giggles at the bottom of my throat, replacing that icky, sad feeling that was just sitting there. The adrenaline coursed through me as my hair blew behind me, my feet moving as quickly as humanly possible. I knew that I could get caught at any given moment. The feeling was almost a _high._

By the time I made it to the dungeons, I was laughing as quietly as I could muster. I threw open the common room door and collapsed against it on the other side, finally letting myself laugh out loud in relief.

I had narrowly avoided Umbridge on my last turn, like she had been following me with a map herself, but damn I had made it.

I couldn’t hold in my laughter, resting my now mess of curls against the door with my eyes shut. Merlin, was it nice to have an endorphin release.

“Have you finally gone mad, then?”

My eyes snapped open.

Draco was sitting on the couch by the fire, his back to me. He was looking ahead, but he had obviously seen me come in like a madwoman, blonde curls covering my face like bloody _medusa_ , laughing uncontrollably in the presence of only myself. Ah, I could care less if he thought I was insane. I probably was.

But why was Malfoy a permanent fixture by the fire nowadays?

“I think I have,” I answered him honeslty, pushing myself off of the door.

I flattened my hair, slowly making my way to the fire where he sat stoically.

“Course you have,” he grumbled. He still didn’t turn to me as I came into his view. “You were supporting Gryffindor tonight. You’re absolutely insane.”

As I rounded the couch, I dragged my hand along the fabric of the arm of it, stopping once I could see Draco’s face. Oddly, he didn’t look like he was kidding. I had half-expected to see him sitting there with a smug smirk, ready to make fun of me for being a traitor. That would be the typical conversation that happened between myself and Malfoy.

He was stone-faced. Sad, even.

I sat on the arm of the loveseat closest to the girl’s dormitory and crossed my arms in front of myself. I was protecting myself from his inevitable poison. I scanned his face carefully.

“I wasn’t rooting for Gryffindor,” I said.

Draco glanced over at me and scoffed. “You ran straight into the arms of the Weasley’s if I do recall.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, “Keeping tabs on me, Malfoy?”

He smirked bitterly and looked away, back toward the fire. “Not likely. You were just the talk of the showers, being a house _traitor_ , and all.”

There it is.

I laughed, despite myself, “You boys need better things to talk about in the shower then.”

Draco didn’t laugh, he just stared straight ahead, his jaw set. I had no idea why he was sitting out here, on his own, with no books or parchment- staring into a fire that surely wasn’t talking back. I would bet it had something to do with the match. Draco didn’t like losing, nobody did, but he liked to make a scene when he lost. He made sure the entire student body knew that the loss was not any fault of his own. I seldom found him out here sulking about it all alone.

Asking him if he was fine would seem disingenuous, and he’d likely recoil at my offer of comfort, but I couldn’t exactly leave him here when I’d clearly interrupted his brooding. Blame it on the adrenaline rush, or possibly the sour feeling I had just felt minutes earlier, but I couldn’t head to bed without saying _something_ that might make that ick in his stomach go away too _._

“You know,” I said, and he blinked, like he had entirely forgotten that I was sitting with him. “I always root for Slytherin. I take no pride in our house losing, but it’s also possible to be happy for your friends.”

Draco shot me a disgusted look- unaffected by my horrendous pep talk.

I smiled, pushing myself off of the couch to head to bed. His gray eyes fluttered up to mine, still sporting that that look of repulsion. How he felt about my friends was clear, and the entire house knew how he felt about my blood status, I was not surprised that he wasn’t entirely thrilled by my words of wisdom either.

“You should know,” I said, still slowly heading backward to the girl’s dormitory. I was surprised that he hadn’t yet looked away. “You _are_ the best on the team, the only shot that we have, really. Bet you’d win if you were captain.”

I turned to push the dormitory door open, hoping that I had made him feel slightly better, even if he didn’t deserve it. On any other day, I probably would have joked and teased him about his loss, ensuring he felt crummy about himself in the way he did to other students, to _me,_ but I was not feeling up for that tonight.

I hadn’t been able to tell George what was wrong, but he had still tried to help, still made sure that I knew that he was there for me if I needed. I guess I should pass the favor along.

I swore as I turned away, the corner of Draco’s mouth had lifted to a smirk- just _slightly._


	8. 8. The Breaking Point

I woke up late the next morning. It was difficult to fall asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about Fred and Angelina, about how his lips had grazed that patch of skin, right under her ear. I spent the whole night staring at the ceiling, mentally kicking myself for letting this bug me to the point where George had taken notice.

I didn’t want to be have to talk about it today. I should have just grinned and bared it. I was usually good at that.

I threw on my green knit sweater, a pair of trousers, and some boots that I could walk in. I waved my wand to fix my makeup and my mass of curls that looked more like a rat’s nest now, watching it smooth and coil perfectly in my mirror. 

Merlin, I was _late._

I rushed out of the dorms and through the empty common room. I paused momentarily as I entered the corridor, disheartened to find the halls of the dungeons empty. No twins. No Lee. No friends.

I managed to rush up to the main corridor just in time. All of the other students were already making their way out of the castle and toward Hogsmeade, excited for their first trip to the only place where we could go during the year that felt like being away.

I saw two heads of red hair near the back of the group, Lee hidden amongst others students. I pushed down my irritancy at them for not coming down to check on where I was.

I squeezed past a few students to get to my friends, reaching them just in time. As I joined them, I nearly stumbled in my tracks when I saw that this was not going to be our regular, enjoyable Hogsmeade trip.

Angelina stood there with Alicia, planted firmly beside Fred. She was totally put together and pretty, her lips glossy and pink, listening to Lee Jordan tell an animated story.

Fred caught my eye first.

“Oi, there she is! Sleeping beauty.”

They all turned to me, George smiling tightly- _sympathetically,_ I thought _._ I made a mental note to hate that feeling for the rest of my life.

Angelina looked me over quickly, her lips pressed together. She wasn’t entirely being rude, but she was definitely ensuring that she did not extend any pleasantries beyond what she had to.

I knew the game. I was the master of the game.

Angelina turned with Alicia, guiding our group out of the castle. For a moment, as she lead our group like she had never left, I debating grabbing by the neck of her jacket, spinning her around to tell her that I stood by every single thing that I said last year. I still thought that she was a bellend, and her voice _still_ reminded me of cats quarrelling in an alley, and yes- I still hated her.

Regrettably, I held my tongue.

George quickly flanked me. He reached over to wrap his arm around my shoulders as we walked together.

I grimaced at him.

“Told you I was the wise one,” he said, shaking me gently. “Not enough room in one womb for both of us to be intelligent.”

“Quit it,” I sneered.

“Should I leave you with the feral cat then?” George asked, pulling his arm away. “Let you two catch up?”

“No,” I said quickly, pulling him back to me by the sleeve of his coat. “But please don’t make it weird. It’s not… I’m not, I just don’t like her after all of… that.”

George nodded, watching me carefully. “Understood.”

I glanced up at him as we walked. There was no doubt in my mind that he wasn’t buying the explanation that I was trying to sell to him. He didn’t believe that this sudden animosity came down to a pissed off friend defending their friend, holding a grudge on behalf of that friend.

We both knew that I would have snapped on her by now if that was the case. I probably would have done it last night at the party.

I knew that, and by his face, I could tell he did as well.

“I’m serious,” I muttered.

“Fine,” he said, smiling down at me innocently. He shrugged to drive the point, that it was no big deal, home.

We walked to Hogsmeade just a pace behind the rest of them. George tried his best to joke, and I tried my best to laugh, but I was hyper focused on the scene ahead of me.

Fred and Angelina were not touching, not nudging each other playfully or grazing hands innocently as their arms swayed by their sides. They were just talking. I’m sure that an outsider would assume they were friends, which made me feel a bit better, but I couldn’t make myself see it that way.

She looked at him the way that she used to. Her eyes wide and full of adoration. They glimmered at his magic, his intoxicating presence. She was well on her way to becoming addicted to his magnificence once again.

I couldn’t bear to see if that familiar excitement was present in his eyes too, like it had been before. I didn’t want to see that look he used to wear which told the whole world how he needed to be near her.

She was _cruel_ to him, even though it hadn’t been overtly obvious. I had watched her play games, toy with him. She had nearly taken that magic that she was so enamored with right now, that magic that he exuded, with her when she broke up with him.

Feral bloody cat.

When we arrived in Hogsmeade, we immediately headed to the Three Broomsticks If we wanted a good booth, we’d have to get there quickly. We snagged one close to the bar, Alicia sliding in first, with Angelina and Fred sliding in next to her. Lee, myself, and George sat across.

I could have kissed George when he came back to the booth with a Firewhiskey for me, along with one for himself, Fred, and Lee. I started drinking it too eagerly, especially for how early it was, but the burning seemed to help settle the rage in my gut.

As the Firewhiskey made its way into our systems, Fred started to go into detail about our plan for this week, growing more and more excited as the table started to hum with approval- the girls clapping and laughing as he laid out the details for them.

I wanted to point out that we were supposed to keep our mouths _shut_ about it, but I didn’t want to give Angelina the satisfaction.

I sighed, looking over to the other tables filled with students.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Seamus were sitting at a booth on the other side of the room. I could go and hang out with them, but that would draw some red flags from my friends. I’m sure Ginny was going to have five hundred questions for me when she noticed her brother was hanging out with Angelina again, she was probably here right now too, I could find her and use that as an excuse to rant.

I craned my neck behind me, looking for Beatrice and Florence, but they didn’t seem to be here either.

I’d have to suffer and sit through this.

“I’ll get the next round, Georgie.” I said, sliding out of the booth.

I headed to the bar, grateful for a moment on my own to breathe. I didn’t have _feelings_ for Fred. I couldn’t explain the feeling I was having exactly, but I knew what my mates did and did not deserve, and Angelina didn’t deserve any of them after last year.

I leaned against the bar, letting out a long breath. I wish I had just stayed in bed.

The barmaid nodded at me, waving his wand and sending a tray to a table elsewhere.

“Four Butterbeer please,” I ordered.

He nodded, flicking his wand again.

George hadn’t brought back drinks for the girls, so I felt no obligation to include them on my rounds either. Plus, we sort of had a routine. We came here every weekend and we each purchased a round. That was the way it worked, and we could barely even afford that luxury. It was a system that didn’t include two extra mouths.

“Firewhiskey,” a voice demanded beside me.

I glanced over and saw Malfoy standing just a foot away. He was wearing a black turtle-neck and jacket, standing straight and steady. His white hair was slicked back to the side, neat and tidy, unlike he had looked last night. His eyes were sporting dark circles under them. He had probably spent most of the night on that couch, wide awake.

He glanced over at me quickly, burying his hands in his pockets. “Aurora.”

“Malfoy,” I replied, tapping my fingers against the bar top.

The barman waved his wand, sending both my round and Draco’s over to us as he busied himself with another order.

I dug my hands in my bag to pay.

“I’ll cover all five,” Draco called out to the barman. The barman nodded at Draco, and he placed the money neatly on the bar top. He had tipped, too. 

I looked at him in confusion, about to protest- wondering _why_ on earth he’d ever offer to do this, especially knowing three of the four drinks were going to Gryffindors who had just demolished his team in Quidditch on Friday. They were the very reason he had been sulking all alone last night.

He looked at me as he turned away, grabbing his Firewhiskey. “Root for the right team next game, alright Aurora?”

I shut my mouth, feeling like a blubbering fish, and nodded slowly as he walked away.

I was a bit lost for words. We were _not_ friends, him and I, not even remotely. I grabbed the tray of drinks in front of me, trying not to stare at Draco as he sauntered back to his table, where Crabbe and Goyle were sitting, their finished drinks in front of them and empty.

It was jarring to be on the receiving end of Draco Malfoy being _kind._

I was kind of excited to get back to the table and tell my friends, so we can laugh about it and try to figure out why the hell Draco would ever do something like this for _us_ , but as I turned and saw the two heads of long hair accompanying my group, I knew that I wouldn’t be sharing. I didn’t want Angelina and Alicia to know anything about it, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.

I slowly brought the round back to the table, meeting Angelina’s eyes as she mentally counted the drinks. I waited for Fred to offer to get her one, or perhaps just give her his own, but he was talking to the group about the prank and barely noticed her prying eyes.

“Thank you, Aur,” George smiled sweetly, clinking the edge of his glass against mine.

“Bottoms up,” I said, meeting his challenging eyes. I wanted desperately to say that George should actually be thanking Malfoy, _yes-_ Draco Malfoy.

George began to drink quickly, initiating another stupid game that they always forced me to be a part of, despite knowing that I’d never win. I brought my drink to my lips too, and tried to meet his pace as we kept our eyes on each other, watching George’s drink disappear before I had even made it half way.

I failed miserably, beginning to choke on the Butterbeer as I burst out laughing. I set my half-full mug down as George arrogantly finished the entirety of his, and slammed his empty mug down next to mine, letting out a satisfied _‘ah._ ’

“Hey, I would have won that if you told me we were going!” Lee grumbled beside us, taking a gingerly sip of his own drink.

“No, I am the record holder,” Fred reminded us.

I glanced at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since arriving at the Three Broomsticks. He smiled arrogantly, and I couldn’t help but smile back, feeling the strain in its legitimacy.

He blinked, his own smile wavering. He recognized that something was off.

I was supposed to be trying to act appropriately today. I didn’t want any more sympathetic smiles from one of my friends.

I lifted my glass and clinked it against his, backing down. “How many seconds was it again, Freddie?”

His smile returned, and he sat up straighter in his seat. “Four, I reckon.”

George rolled his eyes, groaning. “It was not four bloody seconds.”

He looked over at his brother, eyebrows furrowing forward in protest. “What d’ya mean? It absolutely was! If I hadn’t had a quarter of this one, I’d prove it right now.”

“Well, we have two rounds left mate,” Lee said, grinning from ear to ear, “Next one better be down in four seconds.”

“Make it three,” I joked.

Fred looked at me, eyes widening. “Three? You bloody madwoman.”

“Freddie will probably say he did it in two by tomorrow,” George prodded his twin, nudging me.

I burst out laughing, watching Fred roll his eyes in defeat. None of us could ever win when the rest of us stood in solidarity, and we were all sitting here challenging this imaginary record of his.

I took another long sip of my drink, happily choosing to ignore Angelina. I smiled gently at Alicia, trying to include her in the joke. The drinks were fueling my pettiness, and when that pettiness was fueled, that temper was already shortly behind.

I was too old to be playing these games, and yet here I was.

“I’ll go grab us some drinks,” Angelia said to Alicia, nudging Fred lightly to allow her out of the booth.

“Oh,” he said, glancing around the table quickly, realizing that they hadn’t ordered a thing yet. I could read his mind in that moment, and he was kicking himself that they hadn’t been included.

Alicia, who did a quick take of the table, slid out behind Angelina before she could get trapped in the booth with just us.

I watched them go, noting Angelina’s glance over her shoulder at us, her dark eyes locked on me as if they harbored a warning.

As soon as they were out of earshot, I leaned forward. They all followed suit, almost in unison, recognizing the sign of a secret that had to be shared as quickly and quietly as possible.

“So, we’re going to have five rounds today,” I blurted out, sipping my Butterbeer innocently.

“What?” Fred asked.

“Why?” George added, taking a quick count of the table.

I smirked, shaking my head in disbelief. “Someone bought our last one, someone who you’d least expect.”

Fred’s eyes clouded in confusion, he looked around, like someone would be holding a sign with an arrow on it, pointing to themselves as the anonymous donor of our alcohol.

“Who?” Lee asked quietly. “Got yourself an admirer?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not quite. It was Malfoy.”

I watched all of their eyes widen, heads immediately snapping to the back of the restaurant to where Draco was sitting with his back to us. I slapped the table, hard, making them immediately turn back around into our little huddle.

“ _Don’t be obvious,”_ I sneered.

“Why the bloody hell is Malfoy buying your drinks?” Fred asked, eyes burning into mine. “You best mates with the snake now?”

“I’m not sure why he did it,” I admitted, but I could feel a shift in the conversation. That gut feeling that something was going wrong swept back through my stomach with a vengeance.

“Not sure?” George asked, he looked at Fred, raising an eyebrow.

“Well great, they’re probably poisoned and I’ve finished half of mine,” Lee grumbled, staring at the quarter of Butterbeer sitting at the bottom of his glass.

“I told him he was the best on his team last night when I found him all sad and bitter by the fire after I left… the party…” I said, avoiding George’s gaze. I just knew that he was shooting me an _extremely_ curious look right about now.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Fred said, burying his face in his hands.

“Did you really use the words _best on the team?”_ George whispered. He was _actually_ cringing.

I shrugged, opening my hands in front of me. “So what? It’s not a _lie.”_

“But it’s a compliment… to Malfoy,” Lee mumbled.

I rolled my eyes, regretting my decision to tell them at all. I thought they’d get a kick out of this. Malfoy had bought our bloody drinks! Pigs were going to be soaring by the windows soon! I hadn’t been expecting _disappointment_ as their reaction.

“His team _is_ my team,” I said cautiously, trying to defend myself under their ridiculing eyes.

“Should we invite him over then?” Fred asked, and stood up and raised his hand, as if to call Malfoy over to our table.

I immediately slapped my hand on his forearm and squeezed, pushing him back down to the booth in a panic.

“Don’t be a git,” I seethed.

He smirked, but it wasn’t kind. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“What do you mean? You’re best mates now.”

“That’s not what I said,” I muttered, my fingers still tightly gripping his arm. If it hurt, he wasn’t showing me any signs of it.

“I mean, he bought you four drinks. I’d say you’re well buddies now. That, or you’re shagging him” Fred shrugged, his eyes locked on mine, unwavering and cold.

_Excuse me?_

“Ah, he’s just grateful somebody finally said he was good at something,” George said, laughing under his breath. As Fred and I glared at each other in silence, it was evident he was just trying to diffuse the tension.

“Plus, none of us want to endure having a drink _with_ Malfoy, but I guess we can settle for a drink _from_ Malfoy,” Lee said, but he was still swooshing the drink in his cup, looking at it skeptically.

But now I was mad.

I was mad at the instant judgment and dirty looks, all because I was bloody _nice_ to somebody. I had shut my mouth about Angelina, a woman who I had disliked openly for _months_ , all to spare Fred’s feelings- but getting mad at me about Draco buying us a round, and because I had said that he was good at Quidditch when he had still _lost_ , was too much for my friends to bare?

My mouth was moving before I could stop it, as it usually did. The venom of one thousand snakes was on the tip of my tongue.

“Oh, pardon me,” I said, bringing my hands to my chest, on my heart. I mocked sadness, guilt for being nice to Malfoy. “I thought we were inviting all _sorts_ of scum for drinks now.”

Fred’s eyes immediately darkened and I knew my insult had landed. It had hit hard.

“Hey…” George started, putting his hands out in front of him, as if that could stop what had already begun.

Fred clasped his hands around his drink, leaning forward, now focused on me and solely me.

My heart was hammering against my chest, I could feel it against my clothes, that temper that he usually loved about to be used against him directly. I was seeing red, and I knew that if he pushed- I was going to destroy this friendship. I wanted him to feel my pain.

“Does somebody have a problem?” Fred asked, that empty smirk still on his lips. “Why don’t you tell the group? Is that why you ran away last night too? Angelina has that power over you?”

I pressed my lips tightly together, staring at him as my hands started to ball into fists in my lap. _Ran away?_ Like a pathetic child.

“Fred,” Lee warned weakly.

If Fred heard, he ignored him. He was locked on to only me, and I him, the rest of the table had disappeared around us.

“Can’t share your toys?” he asked, laughing as though my discomfort, my pain sprouting from him being with her was a _joke._

I opened my mouth, but George slapped his hand onto mine, cutting me off.

I sucked in a breath, still staring at Fred, my _best friend._ I was grateful for George, for that small gesture, because I had just been about to remind Fred in front of the entire bar of the time that Angelina had told him that he was going nowhere, that he would be _nothing_ , and would amount to little in his life.

Despite the rest of us knowing that the twins would never be _nothing._ She had laughed in his face, ridiculed his sour grades, told him she was _embarrassed_ to be with him.

George grabbing my arm had stopped that, had pushed that temper, that need to lash out, back down for me to internalize. It settled in my stomach with Fred’s words, rooting in its pain, turning the rage into _hurt._

Angelina and Alicia returned then, drinks in their hands, smiling politely as they waited for Fred to step out and let them in. Fred and I were still watching each other, waiting for someone to make the next move, both knowing that both of us were far too stubborn to give up the last word.

I wouldn’t do this in front of her. I wouldn’t allow my first real fight with Fred to be in front of _her._

“Excuse me, Lee,” I whispered, clearing my throat.

Lee glanced at Fred, then me, then back at Fred- as if debating if he should trap me here or not. Uncomfortable, he regretfully slid out of the booth and let me pass.

As I stood, George stood up too and started to slide out of the booth to follow.

“George,” Fred and I said in unison. We looked at him carefully, pleading with him to stay put.

George held out his hand to his twin as if to tell him to relax.

I didn’t want to wait for the brotherly, silent discussion, to stand there awkwardly and wonder if anyone would ever choose _me_ in this friendship. I was the last one in, of course, I was the easiest to push away.

I stormed out of the Three Broomsticks, the door slamming back against the wall with a bang. I started toward the castle, my anger pulsing through my feet. I was practically stomping through the street.

I had only made it past two shops when someone grabbed ahold of my arm and spun me around. I pushed back on instinct, thrusting the person away from me, not wanting _anyone’s_ hands on me when I was feeling like… _this._

“It’s okay,” George said gently, and I rolled my eyes, forcing out a dry laugh. It was not _okay._

I rubbed my eyes quickly. They were starting to burn.

_No._

“I’m not going back in there,” I snapped at him, and wanted to stop talking to him this way. I wanted to change my tone, ease up on George, but my brain was refusing to let me be _sad_ in front of him. So, I was just being mean. “He can fucking-.”

“Hey,” George whispered, cutting me off. He grabbed my shoulders, rubbing them lightly, and took a step closer. “Look at me. Are you okay?”

I kicked the ground with the toe of my boot, _willing_ the feeling to just suffocate itself.

“I’m fine.”

George stared at me. “Look, he doesn’t know _.”_

I shook my head.

“No, I’m serious.” He said, shaking my shoulders enough to get me to look at him. “He doesn’t know. He wouldn’t have said any of that if he thought you-.”

“- I don’t, George!” I said angrily.

He shut his mouth tightly and looked at me, slowly nodding. “Okay.”

“I don’t,” I said again, trying to convince myself now.

I _couldn’t._

“Okay,” George repeated.

I felt it just as it happened, that burn, that overwhelming gasp of air before you couldn’t hold it in any longer. I pressed my hands to my face and shook my head, being immediately pulled into George’s arms. He held me gently, making small circles on my back, not saying anything more. He knew how humiliating this was for me.

I allowed myself about thirty seconds, thirty seconds of my head buried into George’s jacket- tears falling despite my desperate attempts to stop them, and then I took a big breath and pulled away, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater.

George, bless him, stepped back like nothing had happened. He smiled a big, goofy smile, and clasped his hands together.

“Let’s go back up to the castle now, shall we?”


	9. 9. The Hurt Digs Deeper

George and I hung out outside of the castle for a little bit, in that familiar spot that our little group had been retreating to for years, overlooking Hagrid’s hut. Our butts were cold and damp from sitting on the grass, but it didn’t matter. I needed to clear my head for a bit.

We sat outside and talked about anything besides the Three Broomsticks and Fred. I wanted to ask when the hell Angelina had started to come around again, and why I hadn’t heard a peep about _that_ all summer, but if I was trying to figure out what was going on in my chaotic mind, while simultaneously attempting to convince George that I did not have feelings for Fred, I had to cut the Fred chat pretty quickly.

As soon as some students started returning to the school grounds, we headed back inside, mostly on my queue. I didn’t want to risk running into my friends on their way back. I wasn’t ready for a second confrontation, not quite yet.

Thankfully George understood when I wanted to go directly to my common room. He said his cheery goodbyes, nothing out of the ordinary, and let me go without question. It’s when I was alone, sitting on the couch in the common room, staring at the fire in front of me, that I realized the distraction of being with George had dwindled. The pain in reliving the conversation, reliving the look on Fred’s _face_ as he bitterly snapped at me, slowly started to burn in my chest again.

He had never looked at me like that before.

I didn’t like to share? Was he _mocking_ the fact that I was upset about Angelina? Did he think that that was funny? I really should have cut him back, and cut him deeper. I should have reminded him of how much he loathed her just a few month ago. Instead, I had _cowered_ , like if he said anything more, I’d break into a billion pieces.

All over Draco Malfoy, like I’d _ever_ abandon them for a guy who has treated us all like garbage and openly called me a mudblood.

I had never seen Fred react like that, so _appalled,_ not even when I snogged Seamus that one time at a party. If I had known that would have been the reaction, I would have kept my story to myself.

As the Slytherin students arrived back to the common room, Beatrice and Florence chose to sit down and chat. I didn’t care about Honeydukes, or that girl they saw trip in Zonkos, I just wanted to be alone to ponder what the hell I was going to next with no friends to talk to at school.

“Then Blaise came in, and I _swear_ his hand was touching Pansy’s,” Florence whispered, glancing at the common room doorway like Blaise and Pansy would both be standing there listening to us.

“Draco will lose his mind, I’d imagine,” Beatrice snickered, ripping a licorice wand with her teeth.

Florence waved her hand. “Bollocks, Draco hasn’t looked her way in a year.”

“Still,” Beatrice said, chewing loudly.

I shut my eyes, wondering if Fred and Angelina had shopped around, happy that I was no longer crowding their space—holding hands in secret like they couldn’t imagine sharing their love with anyone else. Had he bought her a treat, enjoying the way her eyes lit up in surprise? Had she kissed him as a thank you?

Had Angelina asked about my exit? Had he told her _why?_

“How was your afternoon?” Flo asked, braiding a piece of her hair as she leaned completely backward in the loveseat. “We went to Three Broomsticks and didn’t see you.”

“Your friends were there,” Beatrice added, snapping off another piece of her wand.

I shrugged. “Honestly, I’m bloody sick of being here already. I had to head back.”

Beatrice snorted. “I agree, I’m already suffocating in Potions work.”

Florence groaned, dropping her head over the back of the chair.

The bustle of more students returning halted our conversation for the moment. I glanced over, toward the boy’s dormitory, just as Draco and Crabbe were walking through the door to their dorm.

Draco and I locked eyes, and he raised an eyebrow—a look of question on his face, before disappearing behind the door.

Alas, the universe had restored itself.

~*~

I woke up early on Sunday. I had practically laid awake all night, itching for it to be morning so that I could rush out as soon as possible and tend to the fairies with Hagrid. It was quite literally the only hint of joy that I had left in my life at the moment.

I threw on a light jacket and headed outside, knowing there was absolutely no way that the twins would be out of bed yet, giving me a clear day of doing what I loved without having to face the mistakes of yesterday. I was pathetically desperate for a distraction.

Hagrid was already awake and tending to some other creatures. There were four large buckets of feed next to him, a plank holding them together in the middle, meaning that he was heading into the forest to feed some of the creatures who dwelled within it.

He waved immediately after he noticed me barreling down the hill in excitement.

“Blimey, Aylia, you’re earlier than I expected ‘ya,” he said, but he was smiling, so he was okay with it.

“I just…,” I said, holding my side to aid the stitch from running, “I was very excited, could hardly sleep.”

Hagrid grinned, grabbing some raw meet off of the wooden table and chucking it into one of the buckets. “Help me fill these buckets, will ‘ya?”

I nodded eagerly, pushing up my jacket sleeves. As Hagrid brought down the giant butcher knife, chopping the meat in large chunks, he slid them to the end of the table. I’d take them in big, bloody handfuls, and drop them into the buckets. We moved in a silent routine for the next half hour, slowly filling the buckets until they were nearly overflowing.

“Can’t take ye into the forest with me,” Hagrid said, once he had balanced both planks with four buckets over his shoulders.

I nodded, knowingly. I’ve been fighting to come with him for years, to no avail. He promised that he was slowly working on getting that approval from Dumbledore, and that’s all I could ask for the moment, but this year was only so long.

“I stocked the fridge inside with some food for the fairies,” he said, gesturing inside. “Take it to them, wait for them to come to ye. You’ll learn each of their likes n’ dislikes- very important in gaining their trust. They’re like people, ye see.”

“Got it,” I smiled, and as he turned his back to me and slowly made his way into the forest, I practically bounced up the steps of his hut.

Inside, Fang was still sleeping on the rug beside the couch. He grumbled slightly, opening his eyes cautiously as I came inside, but he relaxed once he saw that it was only me. As his tail started to thump against the floor, I dropped to my knees and gave him some obligatory scratches.

We were friends, him and I, and he knew that when he saw me coming that he was going to get a cuddle or two.

I collected the fruit and vegetables from the fridge, chopped and prepared in little colored bowls by Hagrid. There were all sorts of berries, some of which I didn’t even know the names of, and lettuce leaves and cucumbers, as well as some type of yellow squash which was soggy and wet.

I unwrapped all of the bowls and brought them outside, setting them on the table that Hagrid had built next to the tree trunks. I could _hear_ the fluttering of the fairies in the inside. Were they just waking up? Or were they just hungry, excitedly awaiting a meal?

Remembering the fairy and the blueberries, I started there- plopping a few berries into my hand. I held it at the opening, listening to the buzzing inside, watching the flickering of lights from their wings as they zoomed past.

I don’t know why I expected one to come out almost instantly, maybe because that one from the other day had already met me, but I was sitting there with my hand extended for nearly an hour to no avail. I was sure that Hagrid was going to return and I wouldn’t have a single thing to tell him.

Trying not to get frustrated, I dropped the blueberries to the grass and went back to the table. I grabbed some lettuce, some strawberries, and some funky green berry I had never seen before and made an array on my palm.

Blowing my hair away from my eyes, I let out a breath and extended my hand again. I sat there, as still as possible, and stared at their entrance. They fluttered by, more aggressively than before, but none came out to accept their food.

After twenty-minutes, I was about ready to give up. I had a feast on my palm and they could not care less.

I stared out to the forest, hoping Hagrid would come back before the fairies decided to head back to the forest.

It was then, as my eyes were away from their space, that I felt a tiny pressure on my palm. My breath stopped, and I forced myself to stay as still as possible, quickly glancing down to see the same fairy as the other day fluttering on my hand, staring at me.

I looked away instantaneously, watching the forest line again.

After a few moments, I felt her scampering around, filling her arms with treats. She fluttered away for a moment, back into the trunk, and I noted she took the green berries. She returned then, forcing me to avert my eyes once more, and did this process three more times until my hand was empty.

Once she disappeared, I rushed back to the bowls, my hands shaking with excitement. I hadn’t gotten any dust, but she had _come_ to me, without Hagrid here. That was a pretty big accomplishment.

I stood again, following the same process, and she had come out again to empty my hand. I hadn’t caught sight of any other fairies. They seemed to have no interest in my offerings, but I now had faith I’d get them to come to me with a little bit of patience.

She didn’t return for my third offering. I take it they had enough for at least a few of them, but I still stood there until Hagrid sauntered back with empty buckets.

“Great job!” He had cried, excitedly, when I told him what had happened.

He went into detail then about the handful of blueberries, saying that since they had eaten blueberries a lot yesterday, they likely wouldn’t have come out until I presented them with something new- which is why the second handful worked so magically. They got bored of things, just like people.

He hadn’t been let down when I told him I’d managed to feed only one. He had been expecting that. She seemed to be their little leader, and the easiest to trust. Even if she didn’t trust entirely, Hagrid said that she came to get food for everyone if nobody else was brave enough to came forward. He was sure in a couple of weeks I’d meet a few more on my own.

I stayed for a few more hours, hanging back and watching as Hagrid fed the fairies, and as they came out one by one, leaving sparkling dust all over his hands. There were eleven in there! My heart could explode with how much of a thrill this brought me. I was in absolute heaven.

It took a lot for me not to beg Hagrid to stay out here with me all night, but he had things to do, and my stomach was _grumbling._ I said goodbye to both him and Fang and rushed back up to the castle. I was still on a high, choosing to keep that feeling at the forefront of my head rather than sink back into reality.

I had a quick shower and got ready for dinner, humming to myself in the process. I was probably the only student my age who had fed a fairy, who had seen what I had seen tonight. I was _thrilled_ that other students were going to experience something similar soon, maybe they’d stop mocking the class- take it seriously. It _was_ a serious class- it’s the entire reason that I was leaning toward being a Creature Healer, and Hagrid really thought I could do it.

I got to the Great Hall a little late, but took my seat next to Bea near the head table. I hadn’t had the courage to look for Fred and George, I didn’t want to know if they had been looking for me at all today either. If they hadn’t, that would just be adding salt to my wound.

Beatrice immediately went into a tangent about how Umbridge was scolding _everyone_ regarding the dress code as they walked past today. I agreed silently, taking a spoonful of rice, thinking about the toad woman’s made-up curfew that she had given me.

We ate and discussed Umbridge’s ridiculous teaching methods. Draco, Blaise, and Goyle had come in late, and had surprisingly chosen to sit at the table next to ours. I tried my best not to notice, but Draco’s hot and cold behaviour had piqued my interest.

None of them joined in our conversation, but I caught them looking over once or twice, probably just as curious to what the hell was going on with the ministry’s favorite professor. 

After dinner, Bea and I headed back to the dungeons, ready to turn in for the evening. I couldn’t help it, I risked a look at the Gryffindor table, suddenly feeling that ache for normalcy, for my friends. I wanted to tell them all about the fairies, and I wanted them to _want_ to know.

I found them quickly, not watching or looking for me, plopped down next to Ron, Harry, Angelina and Alicia. They were eating, talking, and laughing. They were just having a normal day.

My heart ached as I left the hall, trying not to focus on that fact that it looked like I had already been replaced.


	10. 10. The Pause for Peace

Monday had flown by. I assume it was because I still hadn’t talked to my friends and I was going to see them all in Defense Against the Dark Arts as the day came to a close. The anxiety about the plan going down tomorrow, when I had been out of the loop for two crucial days, had my nerves on edge.

I walked into DADA with an air of ice. My defenses were up, guarding me, puffing out my chest out as I walked to my seat. Fred and George weren’t in their seats yet, which was unsurprising as they were usually the last to arrive, but I had caught sight of Lee as I walked in.

I sat down and opened my book immediately, pretending to be interesting in this week’s bland assigned reading. I had only read the first couple of words when George appeared beside me, kneeling beside my desk.

“Meet up at the hill tonight?” he asked quietly, glancing up at Umbridge who was not yet paying attention. She seemed to be focused on getting her things in order before class begun. “We have to go over the plan for tomorrow.”

Despite myself, I glanced over my shoulder to catch Fred’s eyes as he watched us carefully, leaning back on his chair with his arms crossed protectively in front of him. Our eyes met, both a little bit conflicted, and he quickly looked away.

“I don’t think that’s quite a good idea,” I said as I turned back to George.

“Why?” He stared at me, bored.

“Am I just supposed to smile and act like everything is fine tomorrow, play our little game, and then go two days without speaking to any of you again?” I asked bitterly, watching his face contort to that ghastly look of sympathy again.

George sighed and rested his arms on my desk, placing his chin on the top of them.

“We knew you were busy with the fairies and I… thought you’d want your space.”

“A day alone?” I asked, raising my eyebrows- even though that had been exactly what I had wanted. They hadn’t let me have a day alone in five years, but now they had decided that it was something I needed? “Is that a magical cure for piss poor friendship or something?”

George scanned my face carefully; his lips pressed tightly together. He was unsure how to move forward from that comment, how to keep both his brother and his friend happy.

I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it. I was lashing out at him again, a classic Aylia Aurora defense tactic, when George hadn’t done a single thing wrong. He had even been the one to console me, and here I was, letting my pride take a dig at him because of my animosity toward his other half.

You’re cracked in the head, Aylia. You really are.

“Well, considering you are a pretty crucial part of the plan, we’re going to need you,” he pushed and he smiled gently, accepting an apology that I hadn’t been strong enough to give him.

“George…” I began, shaking my head.

“The hill,” he cut me off, and he pushed himself up so that he was standing, hovering above me- just as Umbridge turned on her shiny pink heeled shoe to begin her lesson- her eyes locking onto him.

He ignored her and turned back to me, “after Quidditch practice.”

I couldn’t look back at George as he went back to his desk behind me. Fred was sitting there, all ears, waiting for my response to be passed along to him like a childish game of telephone. There was a very slim chance that he wouldn’t be annoyed that I was still taking part in this. 

I didn’t want to risk a look at him and know if he was relieved or resentful that I had agreed to meet them this evening. My pride had already taken far too many hits in the last few days, and one more hit from Fred would leave me incapacitated.

Defense Against the Dark Arts drudged on. Umbridge asked a few questions, all weightless and non-informative, but the class was mainly spent reading the text. I read the same pages over and over again, focused on tomorrow. This scheme was going to be much riskier to pull off when our group dynamic was not at its strongest.

Paranoid, I wondered if Umbridge had realized that I had only turned the page once in twenty-five minutes. I risked a glance upward, but she was currently hyper-focused on the students at the front of the room. Just in case, I slowly flipped the text to the next page.

After class I went straight to the common room and tried my hardest to focus and actually do the assigned reading. I needed to excel this year if I wanted to be a healer for creatures. My marks in all classes needed to be pristine to give me my best chance. The reading, though dull, was a helpful distraction.

I skipped dinner, knowing that the twins would be in there eating as much as possible before practice, and that they’d probably be sitting with Angelina. Angelina was probably indulging on their excitement about tomorrow, perhaps they were even inviting her along. It wouldn’t be the first time.

I just couldn’t stomach it today.

The unfortunate thing is that Angelina and I had gotten along for a long time. We had been friendly before Fred, and we were actually quite close during Fred, but somewhere in that time, things changed. It had been nice having a girl to connect with, to relate to in this group of boys, but she had decided that she didn’t much care to be mates.

It wasn’t even the break up, things changed before then. She became distant, and incredibly possessive over Fred- which is where their conflict started, I reckon. She and I could no longer talk about things, she took any advice about Fred as an attempt to sabotage. We simply just existed with each other, her as Fred’s girlfriend, and me as the friend that she couldn’t get rid of.

There wasn’t tension necessarily, but my patience in putting up with her started wearing thin at that point. Then the fights started, most of them drunken, where she turned into a completely different person and started speaking to Fred like he was lesser than her, like she was superior to him in some way, and that he should be _grateful._ That quickly turned into fights between her and I, where the twins had to pull me away from her with force, or even take my wand for safekeeping.

That’s where my animosity truly stemmed from. You don’t get to come back after that and act like it never happened. How could you tell one of the most brilliant wizards at Hogwarts that they were going to amount to _nothing?_

Utter bollocks.

I headed down to the spot on the hill half an hour after practice. I brought the blankets, knowing that none of the guys would have thought to do so. Surprisingly, all three of them were there, showered and waiting.

“Ah,” George said as I approached. “I told you she was coming.”

I glanced at Fred, pointedly. “I said I was, didn’t I?”

I waved out the blankets, setting them down on the grass. Lee eagerly sat, blissfully ignoring any tension that hung in the air around us. I could sure feel it, it was everywhere, touching my skin like virus that was about to make me ill.

Fred lingered before he sat, choosing a spot far enough away from me to make our newfound distance very apparent. He clearly felt the tension between us too.

“So,” I said, running my hands over the material of the blanket. ‘I have been thinking. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get out of class- you guys should do this without me.”

They all turned to look at me, Fred and Lee in shock. George didn’t seemed surprised in the slightest, he stared at me with a tired look of disappointment. I refused to believe that any of them were daft enough to have not been expecting this.

“First one of our last year and you’re backing out?” Fred scoffed, shaking his head.

Was he reminding me it was our last year to get under my skin and make me soft? I had been the only one out of the four of us that was even remotely nostalgic about leaving school. The twins couldn’t be more thrilled, and Lee was just living in the moment a good percent of the time.

Fred could not give a shit that it was our last, first prank.

His words rang through my ears again. _You ran away. Angelina has that power over you._

I narrowed my eyes, opening my mouth to snap back. I wanted to force him to understand that this wasn’t a choice being made by me. It was precisely his fault as to why I wouldn’t be joining, why I _didn’t want to join,_ but George spoke first.

“Why? We need you if I’m honest, you always find the best routes out.”

“You’ll be fine,” I said, reaching my hand into my back pocket to pull out the map. “Just use this.”

Lee groaned. “You know we won’t have time to read that in a pinch. That’s why we need you. We get _so_ many less detentions with you.”

I handed to map to George, who took it reluctantly.

“Come,” Fred said. He picked at the grass beside the blanket, ripping it up in handfuls, but he never looked at me. “You’ll regret it if you don’t and you know that.”

“He’s right,” George agreed eagerly, “Remember that one time, when we put that riddle charm on Snape’s office door? You were fuming for days.”

I nodded, not being able to push back my laugh. Snape had known it was them, and he made us pay for it for weeks following. He’d call on us in class and constantly watch our every move in the hallways- but he could never prove it. We narrowly missed weeks and weeks of detention, and I hadn’t even been there.

“You got away with it that time,” I pointed out.

“Umbridge is a different specimen entirely,” Lee said, and he was now laying on his back, staring up at the sky.

I looked up too, remembering why this was my favorite place in all of Hogwarts. The sky above the Forbidden Forest’s tree line was changing colors quickly as the evening dawned- the blue portrait of mid-day being cut into pieces by the perfect strokes of pinks, oranges, and reds.

“We’ll meet by the prefect bathroom, just around the west corridor. It’s only about fifteen steps from the classroom,” George began, and he opened the map, pointing to the important fixture spots of the plan. “Fred and I will go in and get the squares under the door. We know the right pressure points and the precise timing before they go off. Lee, at the same time, will put a silencing charm on the room.”

Lee raised his fist, like we had already been triumphant.

‘Aylia,” George said, and then three sets of eyes were looking at me expectantly. “You’ll get us the hell out of there.”

I let out a breath, leaning back onto my palms. I looked back out toward Hagrid’s hut, toward that warm sky that we had become friends under so many years ago.

I wanted an apology and I wanted an explanation. Most of all, I wanted to know why the hell Fred decided to shoot daggers at me when I had come into that bar with none of my own. I didn’t want to help him with anything until I was given at least _that._

But as I looked at George, who had held me with grace, and who sat with me while I stewed in my silent anger, offering no complaints of his own- I knew that I had to do this for him.

“Fine,” I muttered.

Fred smirked, as I turned back to them.

I felt that familiar ticking time bomb in my throat, watching his smugness seep onto his face. He got his way, _again._ He got his way, _like always._

~*~

Before I knew it, it was Tuesday and it was time.

I had chosen to fake sick and tell Snape that I had to head to the hospital wing instead of the loo, because sometimes these escape plans took more time than we planned for. The benefits of having mad scientists for best friends was that they had a way to get me out of everything. One puking pastel, modified to hopefully stop after fifteen minutes- and my green face was excused without question.

I had checked the map, and then checked it ten times more as we huddled together. Timing was everything in these schemes, and that part was all on my shoulders. Filch was irritatingly active today, walking up and down the east corridor, where we were aiming to run to after the squares were set off.

Lee was bouncing up and down on the toes of his shoes. His excitement was typically contagious, but there was a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I had a _bad_ feeling. I debated calling it off, but deep down I knew that they’d go on without me, and I’d rather go down swinging beside them then watch them get carted off on their own.

Once the halls surrounding us were empty, and Filch had been seated in his office for a few moments, I gave them the silent nod that it was time to go.

We rushed forward as a unit, like a synchronized pack of dogs with a two-headed alpha. I kept the map at eye level, just in case an unexpected surprise decided to walk our way.

We quickly ducked behind the pillar beside Umbridge’s classroom.

“Ready?” Fred whispered, glancing at all of us, one by one.

“Ready,” George answered for us all.

Lee pointed his wand at the bottom of the door, and the entire world around us came to a complete and utter halt. Time stood still as we moved in seemingly slow motion, each of us knowing our next moves like clockwork.

The twins, in sync, took handfuls of those tiny scream squares out of the pockets of their robes. They held them in their palms, staring at each other for one quick beat of their hearts. In two swift motions, they slammed their palms together, setting off the timers in the squares, and slid the discs under the door.

“ _Muffliato_!” Lee said quietly, wand at the ready.

The deed was done.

The three of them stood and scurried, rushing back in the direction we had come from- the direction I had told them we were _not_ going to take. I took one step to follow, to yell at them to turn around, but something hiding in plain sight had stopped me in my tracks.

One of the scream squares had bounced off of the stone wall when it was thrown, narrowly missing the entrance into the classroom, and was resting a meter away from where it should be, _outside_ of the classroom.

_Shit._

The hallway was about to erupt in shrill screams that most definitely were not part of the plan.

I heard the hurried feet of my co-conspirators skid to a stop on the stone floors. 

The squares were about to go off, any second now, and we would not have time to get out of the way.

I rushed forward. I would _not_ sit in detention with Fred for _weeks._

“Aylia!” George whispered loudly. His voice was still far enough down the hallway. They could still make it away from here if I didn’t fix this in time.

I slammed my foot on the rogue square, unsure if this would stop it from going off- but hoping to god the pressure would act like a reset button.

Hands grabbed my arm, pulling me back, taking both me and the scream square further from the door. The force of their hands was strong, putting more and more distance between me and Umbridge’s classroom. I kept my foot planted tightly against the floor, dragging the square with me.

I tried to wriggle free out of their grasp, shoving their hands off of me. They resisted, hard, but I had gotten myself free just enough to swing my foot back and kick the disc out across the hallway, sending it directly under the door and out of view.

The perfect shot.

The world froze for a second again. I shut my eyes in relief.

Spinning around quickly, I collided into Fred, who had frozen alongside of me when he had realized why I hadn’t followed. Fred’s eyes were wide, arms now hanging lamely at his sides, staring at the space under the door in disbelief.

I glanced behind us, locking eyes with George and Lee, who were ten feet away- the _wrong_ way, ready to keep running. We stared at each other, awaiting the other’s next move.

I pointed dramatically to the east corridor.

“This way!” I yelled as quietly as possible, pushing past Fred to run, leaving him in my dust.

He caught up quickly, and we took off in a sprint down the east corridor. Our robes fluttered behind us like capes, and I couldn’t suppress a smile as I thought of us like a gang of superheroes—saving first years from the evil toad woman.

George and Lee had promptly joined us, and the two of them were now laughing uncontrollably, nearly falling over their own feet as we flew down the hallway. I pointed to the upcoming corridor, sliding to a stop when we reached the third hall on the left. This is where I had _planned_ our escape route up to the astronomy tower.

We all skidded to a stop as we turned, an unwelcome surprise in our midst. I had not been expecting to see a group of students huddled at the end of the corridor, talking amongst each other. At least ten of them.

I hadn’t checked the map in about twenty seconds. Why hadn’t I checked the map?

“Shit!” I whispered, looking around frantically.

Where?

Where?!

Screaming flooded our ears, making us all freeze simultaneously. It was not scream square screams, that sound was _real_ screaming, screams from petrified little eleven-year-old students. The four of us looked each other, feeling that familiar feeling of raw, pure, and utter panic of a plan going wrong. 

“Aylia…” George whispered in warning. He looked over at the ten students down the corridor, who were now staring at us, following the sound of the shrieking children.

I quickly scanned the map, my chest rising and falling dramatically as I fought to catch my breath. My hands were trembling uncontrollably, making it hard to read names and mark the proper directions.

I looked around the east corridor, desperately.

Got it!

“Come on,” I said, my heart pounding against my ribs, except now it was a _good_ rush _._ That adrenaline that I craved had quickly replaced the explosion of nerves that had swept in when I had thought that we were stuck. Now that I was absolutely positive that we were going to get away with this, the racing heart was as welcome as an old friend.

I flew down the east corridor, trying to stop laughing as the screams grew louder and louder. I took a sharp right, tugging on George’s sleeve to guide him. This hallway was rarely travelled, nothing but few professor’s offices and some broom and supply closets. It was the gravy train of hiding spots.

With the risk that some students had spotted us, we had to act fast.

I found the tiny closet door that I had been looking for pretty quickly, remembering it from the one time I had come year in fourth year. I had to retrieve soil for Hagrid, this was his closet, solely used for his classroom. Hagrid said that he was the only one to use it in decades, occasionally storing supplies here, but I knew even he seldom visited.

I pulled out my wand, pointing it at the lock, “Alohamora.”

It popped open immediately.

I threw open the door and held it open so that the twins and Lee could throw their bodies inside. They nearly tripped over each other, diving into the closet to safety.

I froze, hearing the shrill cries of Umbridge now echoing off of the walls, approaching far too quickly.

Lee reached forward, grabbing my wrist that was still holding my wand out in front of me. Roughly, he yanked my body into the closet with them and pushed me behind him, slowly shutting the door behind us, making sure it was soundless.

Without having to communicate, Lee began to charm the door with whatever little tricks he had up his sleeve to hide our location.

I let out a breath, pressing my back to the stone wall and shutting my eyes in relief.

We bloody did it.

“ _I will not tolerate such behavior in my classroom- in this school!”_ Umbridge was screaming, and she was close, dangerously close. She had made it to this hallway. “ _Now, any students caught hiding, caught disrupting my classroom, will be punished as I see fit.”_

Her feet trotted through the hallway, toward Hagrid’s closet. Slowly, as she approached, those clunky footsteps came to an eerily silent halt. Although we could not see her beyond the door, we knew that she was standing directly in front of it, listening.

I glanced downward, swallowing hard. The shadow of her pointy shoes was visible underneath the door. I sucked in a sharp breath and stared at the outline of her feet.

How the hell had she could she have known that we were in _this_ bloody closet?

I opened my mouth, about to ask if they had any ideas on how to get us the hell out of this- because I was freshly out, but a hand found my wrist- holding me still. I looked at Fred, whose eyes were locked on the door as he kept a firm hold on me.

I slowly looked to Lee, who was standing in front of the door with his back to us. He was likely standing face to face with Umbridge at this very moment, separated by only a wooden door.

Lee slowly lifted his finger to his lips.We had to stay absolutely silent.

He hadn’t gotten the silencing charm completed in time. Bloody hell, she could wait us out for hours on the other side of that door if she desired. One of us would surely make a noise eventually. What charms had he been able to get through?

Suddenly, Umbridge started spewing spells, loudly and with force. They hit the door and the lock with a vengeance, full of rage, banging against the wood and metal over and over again until she let out a small cry of frustration. The door hadn’t budged, only shaking against the attempted destruction.

Whatever protection charms Lee had placed had been a _much_ better decision than a silencing charm.

Fred’s hand tightened on my skin as Umbridge screamed for somebody’s attention. A distant voice called back to her.

“What closet is this?” Umbridge’s shrill voice asked.

A grumbled reply. Filch. “Gatekeeper’s, ma’am.”

I felt myself tense uncontrollably. He was the Care of Magical Creatures’ _professor,_ actually- and a bloody good one.

“Rubeus Hagrid?’ Umbridge asked and Filch blubbered a response. “Get him at once.”

I glanced at the twins in a panic.

Hagrid wouldn’t be able to open the door, not with Lee’s charms, and then our gig would be up. Umbridge would eventually figure out exactly what we had done and counteract those charms, and we’d be standing here like fish out of water.

Footsteps echoed away from the door. Was it one set or two? Were those heels tapping away or just Filch?

We listened as she opened each doorway in the corridor with a blast from her wand. We could hear her pushing furniture and materials out of the way in a desperate search for us. Her voice kept barking orders. To who? I was unsure, nobody seemed to be responding to her demands.

Lee leaned forward, pressing his ear to the door as her voice drifted further and further away. We sat as still as possible, frozen in wait.

I turned back to the twins, opening my mouth to suggest that we make a run for it, but Fred shook his head quickly. His hand slid down my wrist, fingers briefly grazing fingers. That familiar jolt ran up my arm, sending a flutter straight to my stomach.

He had already turned to George.

I pushed past them, pointing my wand at the door, “ _Muffliato.”_

Lee jumped, turning to me in shock.

“Are you crazy?” He whispered. “She’s right _there!”_

I shrugged. It didn’t matter now; the silencing charm was in place and we had a solid ten-minute window to figure out just how the hell we were going to get out of here. Her voice was on her way back toward us.

“Hagrid won’t be able to open that door,” I reminded them. “We need to get out of here.”

Fred nodded, racking his brain for any way out of the corner we had backed ourselves into.

I wondered what was on the other side of that back wall. Perhaps we can blow through it without alerting anyone to our location. Drastic? Definitely, but I’m sure we could figure out a way to put it back together after we had finally got our asses out of here.

“Lumos,” George said quietly, even though nobody would be able to hear us any longer.

We poked around the closet, like there would be a magical solution for being trapped by an evil dictator. I pushed through jars of dried up worms and critters, not quite knowing what I was looking for.

Fred and George were rummaging on the other side of the room, through the racks of different bagged soils. This was Hagrid’s closet, there was not going to be anything fancy tucked away, out of sight. It was just us, our wands, and a bunch of materials to keep a Hippogriff happy.

“Back to class now!” Umbridge’s shrill voice called out, but she sounded even further away now, like she had turned corner and headed back down the east wing to direct her panicked first-years.

Lee spun around, wide eyed, staring at the three of us.

“She’s gone,” Lee confirmed, but he seemed unsure of what to do next.

“We have to move,” I decided. Without consulting them, I pushed passed Lee and threw open the door to the closet, not giving them any time to argue.

Umbridge’s classroom was only a few corridors away. Once she ushered her students back to their desks and resumed proper order, surely she would return to seek us out. The corridor, thankfully, was empty.

I spun around. The three of them stood in a frozen protest, eyes wide and panicked. I spun around, arms open, to confirm that we were absolutely alone in this corridor again.

“Come on then,” I said, waving them out.

We moved quickly, but cautiously. Umbridge’s voice was still carrying through the hallways. She was still quite a distance away, and had probably just made it back to her classroom, but Filch could be back at any second.

We scurried down the east corridor and snuck down different hallways until we reached the staircases. It was basically a safe haven to get to wherever we wanted, our last obstacle would be avoiding any other professors who may have been alerted to the scene before we were in the clear.

George let out a relieved breath as we climbed the stairs, desperately trying to keep a normal pace to look as inconspicuous as possible.

“What the bloody hell did you do to that door?” I mumbled, glancing behind me to Lee, who was leaning over the railing to catch his breath.

He glanced upward, a small triumphant smirk pulling at his lips. “About twenty-five locking and rebound charms.”

I nodded at him, impressed.

As the stairs came to a halt, we slowed our pace and headed toward their common room. Surely, most students would be in class right now. The common room _should_ be empty. It would be an easy place to stay low unless Umbridge specifically came looking for us.

Imagine her face if she saw me and my green tie lounging on the plush red couches.

We collapsed in a heap around the fireplace, the adrenaline slowly starting to evaporate. Within seconds we were all laughing- I think we had each believed that we were done for at some point, maybe even _multiple_ points.

I rested my hand on my stomach as I laid with my legs stretched out in front of me.

It had gone off as perfectly as possible. The deed was done, the toad was angry, and her classroom had dissolved into complete and utter chaos. That was the goal, after all, and complications or not- we had done it.

“Genius move with spotting the square on the ground,” Fred said as our laughter slowly dwindled.

I stared at the ceiling, the memory of that day at The Three Broomsticks quickly overpowering the moment of companionship that we just shared. Did he think that a compliment was enough to mull things over? That I’d just _get over it?_ Surely, he knew me better than that after all of these years.

Although I wanted to let it go, just so I could live in this moment with my friends, it was not that easy.

My smile slowly dwindled, eyes still locked on the roof of the common room. Silence stretched out between the four of us. That air of tension from the booth at The Three Broomsticks, and from the hill overlooking Hagrid’s hut, had solidified itself between us again.

“I’d love to see Umbridge’s face when she finds that closet empty,” Lee said finally.

“I wish I could have seen her face when the squares went off,” George added, and I knew they were looking to each other, trying to fill the awkward silence with typical banter.

Again, it just wasn’t that easy.

“Not to mention those first-years, scarred for life, I’d reckon.”

Lee reached forward from his spot on the floor and pinched my toes lightly, shaking my foot with a gentle grip.

I craned my head to look at him.

He smiled gently. “Do you think any of them cried?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I let out a small laugh, which seem to comfort him a bit, and he dropped my foot back onto the cushion below me.

I should probably take another puking pastel and go down to the Hospital Wing so they had me on record, just to solidify my alibi from Potions. Surely, if Umbridge was tracking us down, she’d ensure that I really had been ill today. If my story didn’t match with Snape’s explanation, detention was right around the corner.

It would be a good excuse to get out of here and collect my thoughts, too. I suddenly felt incredibly sad, as though this was the new normal, and those moments full of bliss and happiness were now the moments that were fleeting in our friendship. We’d never had a spat like this, not Fred and I, and it didn’t seem like either of us were ready to make the moves to stitch us back together.

I could admit that mine was out of stubbornness. I did not deserve to be treated the way that I had been, over a girl and a guy who were not myself or Fred. The fact that he had given Draco and Angelina the power to dismantle what we have in the matter of minutes had left me stained with bitterness.

I wasn’t innocent either. I had poked. I felt attacked and so I pushed back, a classic Aylia Aurora thing to do. The situation had escalated because I cut him back. But ultimately, I had not been the one to start it, but I had been the one to leave in tears. It was the first time that Fred had ever made me cry and he hadn’t even cared to see if I was okay. 

My head was in absolute stitches. My adoration for my best mate versus my anger over what he had said to me were clashing, leaving me utterly conflicted. 

Now he sat on the opposite couch from me, laying in the exact same position, offering up a half-assed compliment as his form of an apology. It would have probably been better if he had just said nothing at all.

I sat up abruptly. “Can I have another puking pastel? I better get to the infirmary in case Umbridge talks to Snape.”

George and Fred both turned to look at me, Fred letting out a little breath of frustration.

“Um, yeah,” George nodded, pushing himself to his feet. Without a word more, he left the rest of us in the common room as he went to the dormitory to retrieve the product for me.

Lee stared at Fred, hard. I pretended not to notice, but they were communicating with each other with harsh looks and quick gestures. Lee probably wanted Fred to just fix this, and Fred was likely telling Lee to fuck right off.

George dropped a puking pastel in my lap as he returned.

“Thanks,” I murmured, shoving it in my mouth and chewing quickly. For how sweet it tasted going down, it was really quick to turn your stomach.

“Yep,” he said shortly, sitting back down on the floor.

I stood up then, already feeling the pastel working in my belly. Grabbing my wand and sliding it in my pocket, I stood to leave, catching Fred’s eyes as they skimmed over me.

“See you,” I said lamely. 

“Bye!” Lee said cheerily. “Happy Barf-day!”

As soon as I turned away from the common room, my stomach was in knots. It was nice to have another feeling to focus on, even if it was nauseating sickness. I think I actually preferred this one.

I reached the Hospital Wing in minutes, getting sick the second I arrived, clutching my stomach tightly.

Madam Pomfrey ushered me to a bed. As the minutes ticked by and she inspected me carefully, watching as the symptoms seemed to just evaporate. Her look of professional concern began to contort into skepticism. There was no doubt that she had seen her fair share of students coming in after eating a puking pastel. She likely knew exactly where they were sourced.

I laid in that bed for a half hour while she continued about her business, barely even stopping to check on me. She must have realized within the first ten minutes that I didn’t need it. My illness had been self induced and temporary.

After an hour, she sent me away, a look of warning spread across her dainty features.

I smiled innocently and headed back to the dungeons, thanking the stars that all of this had worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the Kudos and reviews. I feel incredibly grateful for them as I started writing this to get back into the groove to eventually start my own novel. It is not going unnoticed. I appreciate it. 
> 
> The next chapter is my favourite so far!
> 
> -A


	11. 11. The Wicked Witch at the End of the Table

The Slytherin common room was lively as I arrived. The talk of the prank had already swept through the school. Not everybody found it entertaining, but most of the students were happy that it had happened to Umbridge of all professors.

“Sounds like you had a busy day,” Beatrice smiled, approaching me with her arms in front of her. “You know, recovering from that plague you had come down with in Potions.”

“Oh, I was _very_ ill,” I laughed.

“So is Umbridge, apparently,” Beatrice snickered, her nose scrunching up in that cute little way it always did. “Esmerelda said it took her all afternoon to get that closet open.”

So the details of the event had spread just as quickly. Hopefully Hagrid hadn’t been in too much trouble for having a bunch of random jinxes on the door to a closet that he had ownership over. Umbridge may have been fuming, but surely the other professors could support him in confirming he rarely used it.

“It was a close one,” I admitted regretfully.

Beatrice and I took a seat at one of the tables in the common room and she made me tell her everything. I held back key details, leaving out specific information about the twins’ invention in case Umbridge ever tried to pry my friends for information. I never felt like giving details about the products that they created was my place, anyhow. I’d leave that to the masters.

I found joy in how excited Beatrice was over what we had done. Watching someone’s eyes light up like this made the risk worth it. Alleviating everyone else’s stress by amping up Umbridge’s was an easy trade.

“Well, if it isn’t our famous little delinquent,” Esmerelda jabbed, walking up to our table. She and Florence took the remaining seats across from us.

Esmerelda stared at me pointedly, a small smirk on her lips. She crossed her arms in front of her on the tabletop.

“I would say out famous _hero_ ,” Florence corrected quickly.

Esmerelda scoffed as she pulled her chair closer to the table, shaking her head.

“Will you be saying that when Umbridge finds out that it was Aylia and rips our last house cup away from us?”

Florence shrugged, spinning the end of her long braid around her fingers.

“The House Cup doesn’t mean that much, anyway,” Beatrice said gently, but Esmerelda just rolled her eyes. If she did that one more time, I was going to hex her so that they permanently stayed back there. Enjoy looking at the empty tunnel that is inside of your head, Es.

“I heard a couple of Ravenclaw first years had to go to the Hospital Wing,’” Florence bounced in her seat, letting out an amused giggle.

I had a flash of a thought. I pictured her and Lee together and wondered if their matching energies would be a connection made in heaven. I doubted Florence would get sick of the constant attention, which Lee would surely give her in loads, and I guarantee that she would find Lee intoxicatingly funny.

“I was down there for an hour today and it was rather empty,” I said.

It was not surprising that rumors were beginning to flutter through the halls. That always happened when we pulled something off. The number of times where the twins had apparently been expelled, or even petrified by a teacher, were uncountable. Although I hated the fake stories, preferring to relish in the truths of what we had managed to pull off, the twins adored the rumors.

They liked to keep people talking, and if people kept embellishing their antics for them, they had to do very little to keep their infamy.

“Pretty brave, scaring a bunch of eleven-year-olds.”

Esmerelda watched me carefully, her eyes hidden by her thick, black bangs. She was trying to get under my skin. It was funny that she thought she even had the capability of doing so. Why on earth would I ever need the approval of a world renown arse-kisser? She was the _just_ the type of person that I was aiming to piss off.

I smiled at her, watching her falter a bit. She hadn’t been expecting me to be amused.

I didn’t have to explain myself; I knew why we chose first-years and it had the exact impact that we had wanted. Would she have preferred I hid a Scream Square in her robes and made her wet herself in class?

“I imagine anyone older would immediately realize it was the Weasley boys,” Florence said, innocently putting Es right back in her place.

“And their token Slytherin,” Esmerelda jabbed.

I raised my eyebrows. “Es, if you want to shag a Weasley twin, just say so. I can put in a good word.”

Her eyes grew wide. Beatrice and Florence snickered at her expense, and Esmerelda’s face clouded with darkness.

She and I both knew that she had absolutely no desire to obtain the interest of Fred or George. In fact, the idea that she might would be particularly insulting to her. Pure-bloods or not, Esmerelda did not consider the status of her family to be equal to theirs.

She could not pull one of them if she tried.

I smiled to myself as she radiated with anger in her seat. Her brain working quickly, trying to muster up a response that would make it clear to the table that Fred and George Weasley were not of her high-class tastes.

She didn’t get the chance. Florence was already changing the subject, leaving Esmerelda to stew in her crabbiness on her own.

“Can you do the same thing next Thursday? My Divination paper is due and I can’t seem to get through it.”

“I think that’d be pushing my luck, Flo.”

She reached forward and clutched my hands tightly, pretending to plead in desperation. “Tell Fred and George I’ll buy some off of them. I’ll sell my soul, I swear.”

Beatrice smacked her hand on top of ours. “It’s okay, just offer them a night in the sack with Es as a tradeoff. It’s a win-win.”

My jaw nearly dropped.

All three of us looked to Esmerelda expectantly. Her eyes were burning a hole into the middle of Beatrice’s head, her jaw clenched tightly. She was not laid back enough to let being the butt of a joke just roll off of her back.

“Don’t bother,” she seethed, through clenched teeth. “I think we all know that they need the money. Maybe they can use it to buy mummy some birth control.”

I blinked, stunned. I had to take a moment to absorb the words that she had just said aloud, to _me._ It was one thing to take jabs at me, I could take it, but to say something so nasty about my best mates, when they weren’t even here, was another story.

And then she had to bring Molly into it.

I saw _red_.

“Es…” Florence said gingerly, slowly turning to look at me.

My eyes were locked on her smug, pale face. The corner of her thin lips tugged upward with content. She had gotten to me and she knew it.

Before I could think, I had pulled out my wand, jumped across the table and grabbed her by the collar of her robes. I tugged her down so roughly that her chin nearly smashed against the top of the table.

Beatrice and Florence let out a scream of shock.

I held Esmerelda close to me, pushing the tip of my wand deeply against her throat.

“Aylia!” Beatrice begged. I felt her hands yanking at the sleeve of my robe.

Esmerelda swallowed hard. I felt her quickening pulse ricocheting down the length of my wand. She was _afraid._ Her dark eyes scanned the shocked faces around us, suddenly aware of the silence that had dawned over the room.

I held her so tight that she couldn’t push back against my grip. Not even an inch.

I brought my face down to her level, my eyes locked on hers. “Brave little thing, you are.”

“Let go of me,” she grumbled, eyes drifting to my wand.

I was breathing heavy now, anger pulsing through me that felt unstoppable. My hand _wanted_ to hex her; it seemed to be gripping my wand without any direction from me. A spell was going to fly out before I realized what I was doing.

“I think you’ve forgotten about all of the public humiliation I have put you through,” I said quietly. “Since you haven’t gotten it through your thick skull, that I am _stronger_ than you, I may have to give you a painful reminder.”

Esmerelda forced out a strained laugh, trying to save face. “Do it. You’ll lose us even more house points.”

I pressed my wand into her throat harder, making the skin of her neck redden around the tip- already starting to bruise.

“Aylia, stop,” Florence squeaked from beside me.

I watched Esmerelda’s face start to lose composure as I held her, unwavering. That air of confidence was dwindling to a panicked fear. House points meant nothing to me. My reputation meant nothing to me. She _knew_ exactly what I cared about. She had just used them against me.

“If you _ever_ even mutter their names again, even in your sleep-,” I started, twisting my wand in my hand.

Strong arms pulled me back, tearing me away from her in one quick pull. I was caught off guard, locked in my own little world with just myself and my prey. Since I hadn’t been prepared to be swept away, my arm fell as I was dragged, giving Esmerelda enough slack to jump out of my grasp.

“Hey!” I yelled, pushing at the hands around my frame. Despite my shoving, the culprit dragged me through the common room without pause. I struggled against them, looking back to Esmerelda with fury.

I had not gotten to finish!

Esmerelda rushed backward, sending her chair spiraling to the floor; wide eyes locked on me. Her trembling hands rubbed the skin that I had abused at her throat.

Beatrice’s eyes found mine, standing beside the table in shock. She didn’t stop the person from taking me out of the room, likely for my own good, but I continued to swat at their grasp until we were outside in the corridor, and then he let me go.

I spun around and saw Draco, hair slightly awry from my struggle.

_You have got to be kidding me._

I pushed him away from me roughly, putting some distance between us. _Oh boy,_ did I want to swing at him.

Staring at him in disbelief, I held out my arms. “What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

He looked at me with a disapproving, tired expression of displeasure. “Saving your reputation and the reputation of this house.”

I scoffed, dropping my arms to my side. The blinding rage had now passed, I wasn’t going to go in there and hex Esmerelda until she cried, but I was still furious. I shoved my wand back into my robe pockets.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Draco asked, looking down his nose at me.

I wanted to laugh. Why did he care? A little spat between me and a housemate, specifically Esmerelda, was not that rare of an occurrence. He had sat on the sidelines a few times while we went at it. Hell, he had been at the other end of it before.

Draco and I didn’t protect each other, we didn’t _do_ these hallway check-ins to calm each other down.

He stood in front of me in silence, one hand buried in the pockets of his robes. We looked at each other and let the second pass by, until I realized that he was waiting for an answer to his intrusive question.

I sighed, pushing a curl out of my eyes. “It was Esmerelda being Esmerelda, there isn’t much to tell.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “Does this have something to do with the reason you were crying outside The Three Broomsticks the other day?”

“I-,” I paused, glaring up at him in shock. 

What?

He had seen me outside of The Three Broomsticks? He had seen me _crying_? Did that mean Crabbe and Goyle had too? Who _else_ had seen me falling into my best mate’s arms like a heartbroken idiot?

Bloody fucking hell.

“I don’t know what you _think_ you saw,” I started, trying to formulate a reasonable explanation, any valid excuse, in my head. It would be far too damaging for one of the people I tended to go head-to-head with to start thinking about me as weak.

“I saw you storm out of the bar, and then I saw you crying with one of the Weasels,” he said simply, no judgment in his voice, just stating fact.

I glowered at him. “I-well, No. No this does not have to with _that.”_

He nodded, moving past it. “Then why the hell are you risking your own arse, especially after that ridiculous theatric that I assume you were behind today, for _Quail.”_

He spat her name like an insult.

I liked it. 

“People need to be put in their place sometimes, Malfoy,” I reminded him. “You of all people should know that.”

Though I meant that as a jab, a reminder that he acted like an arrogant prick sometimes and eventually people snapped back, he was nodding in agreement like he was aligning himself with me in this situation.

I had actually been referring to all of the times we went at it, him starting the fight and me determined to finish it. Those moments were all started by him being a prejudice and ignorant little twat, just like Esmerelda.

“That was quite a show just to put someone in their place,” he said.

I rolled my eyes, “Well I _wanted_ to hex her, but I couldn’t quite get that far now, could I?”

“Over what?” he asked.

Again, I sensed no judgement or arrogance in his curiosity. My mind reeled back to the Three Broomsticks, when Fred had looked at me with shame, where he had mocked me over a harmless conversation with someone he didn’t like. When had these two switched bodies? I should not be being torn away from a fight by Draco Malfoy, and I surely shouldn’t be harboring unwavering rage for Fred.

I stared at him skeptically. “You suddenly care about my feelings now, Malfoy?”

He shrugged lazily, “Just curious what was worth getting expelled over.”

“She made a comment about Fred and George. About their family.”

I scanned his face for a reaction, and I got one. He rolled his eyes in disbelief, morphing back into the Malfoy that I had known for all of these years.

“Come on, Aurora. Stop getting yourself in trouble over those two,” he shook his head. “Her words only have power over you if you let them.”

I laughed bitterly, partly pissed off that he could suggest defending my best friends from slander was not worth the trouble, but also because he threw around words like _mudblood_ often. Did he really think that people had the capacity to just obliterate the power behind words that were laced with hate?

“Well, I let her, and I wish you would have let me show her just how much power her words had.”

He smirked, intrigued. “Oh, I think you showed her well enough. I’d be surprised if her robes are still dry in there.”

I kicked my foot against the stone floor, not being able to suppress my smile of satisfaction.

“Now do I need to worry about you going back in there and getting expelled, or can I head back to my Potions essay in peace?” He held out his hand toward the common room door, but that amused smirk was still dancing on his lips.

“Fine,” I grumbled, but I couldn’t force away my growing smile either.

I headed back inside with Draco following closely behind.

I rejoined the table, where Esmerelda had disappeared but Beatrice and Florence were huddled together looking worried, I was grateful that the common room had virtually gone back to normal. Though people looked at me over their shoulders curiously, conversations has resumed and everybody seemed to have moved on.

I slid back into my chair, my eyes following Draco as he gave me one last nod before returning back to his friends and his abandoned paper.

Beatrice and Florence spoke quietly about how out of line Esmerelda had been, and were cautiously approaching the subject to try and comfort me. Oddly, I was already comforted. That anger that had coursed through me had been diffused almost instantly by the way Draco had swooped in handled it.

I looked over at him, wondering when that line between rivals to friends had been blurred. He had come in quickly without being asked, and somehow knew how to manage me when I couldn’t be responsible for handling myself, when I was blinded by rage.

Draco had been oddly kind, _again,_ even going so far as to act like he’d give a shit if I was in trouble. Blimey, he hadn’t even made a single cruel comment about Fred and George, and I had given him the perfect opportunity to do just that.

I focused back on Beatrice and Florence, but my mind never really rejoined us.


	12. 12. The Bargain of a Brother

I was in the library the next morning during my free period, using my spare time to start my Care of Magical Creatures paper, though it was not due for weeks. It had to be perfect. I knew that there was no way I would do poorly in the class with all of Hagrid’s help, but this year was my last chance to prove that I was good enough to become a Healer.

The library was rather quiet today. The surrounding tables were mostly vacant, apart from a few second-year students who were sitting a few tables down, looking at me curiously every couple of minutes. If I moved, they all turned to watch, like I was an animal at a zoo. I paid them no mind, barely looking up from my parchment and textbooks, figuring that they must have heard that I had been a part of that little event yesterday. They were either horrified or impressed.

I had just finished my first page of notes, and was reading it over with focus, when somebody slid into the seat across from me, nearly knocking over my ink.

George stared at me, sleeves pushed up and out of breath as he held the inkwell steady in his hands.

I raised my eyebrows, placing down my parchment. “Yes?”

He leaned back and let out an exhausted breath. “I’ve looked all over the castle for you. I even checked Hagrid’s _twice,_ and you have been sitting in the bloody library on the second week?”

“Is that a crime?” I asked.

The eyes of the second years were glued to us now. If they didn’t know me, they surely knew George.

“You are bloody right, it is,” George nodded. “McGonagall is going to wonder why I’ve been in the loo for twenty-five minutes.”

I shrugged, unbothered. If he was looking for me during class, he was either looking for a way to cure his boredom, or he had something that he wanted to ask me. If I had to place a bet on which based on the last few days, it was the latter.

George let out a breath and leaned forward on his elbows. I could tell that this attempt at comfortable small-talk was now over. “Can we move on from this?”

Bingo.

I slapped my hands on the desk, leaning myself toward him slowly so that I could talk about this quietly, without allowing the nosy little children next to us to overhear my business. Despite my immediate cold stare, one that dared him to challenge me, George did not recoil away.

“Move on from _what?”_ I asked, daring him to consider this just a little blip between friends. George had seen what it had done to me. He had practically kept me together that day, immediately after his brother had torn me apart. I was tired of these stupid, senseless boys thinking one little prank could patch up the wounds they had caused, and all would be forgiven.

“This thing with you and Fred, can it stop? You’re avoiding us now,” he said, not bothering to keep his voice down like I had.

The second years started whispering quietly at their table, nervously looking over their shoulders. They were bracing themselves for impact, as though the pair of us must carry scream squares with us everywhere we go, ready to toss them at unsuspecting children to ruin their day.

I narrowed my eyes at George. “I’m avoiding _him.”_

“Sorry, love, but it’s the same thing,” he said, pressing his lips together in a tight smirk.

He leaned backward, away from me again, balancing on the back legs of the old wooden chair while he waited for me to consider that bullshit response. The air of smugness reminded me so much of his brother that a part of me wanted to smack the arrogance right out of him.

The thing is, he was wrong. I was choosing to place distance between myself and Fred because it hurt too much to do anything else. It was George and Lee that spent every waking minute with him, making the decision to do so, whether conscious or not. That was fine, I couldn’t fault them for it, despite how lonely I felt doing the daily, mundane things all on my own. But me avoiding Fred did not automatically mean I was avoiding them. They had agency; they could seek me out at any time.

“I did the prank, that’s what you asked,” I said.

George rolled his eyes with an air of drama. “Yes, and it will go down in history, but when it was all over it was only three of us sitting there, reliving the best parts of it. It kind of ruined the mood.”

“You’re grown boys, you were fine,” I grumbled, sinking into my chair, though my heart warmed a little bit knowing that I had been missed. I reached for my essay, where my focus should be, and fiddled with the rugged edges of the parchment.

George eyed me carefully. “All you have to do is talk to him.”

I let out a laugh under my breath, that bitterness seeping up again. Fred had George and George had Fred, and they both had Lee. Did anyone see how unfair it was to expect me to make amends when I had been the one who had been hurt? Were they pestering Fred as much as they were me, or was he exempt from this nagging?

“I don’t have to do anything,” I told him quietly. “He can make an effort, George. He made the effort to do what he did with no complaints; he can be the one to fix it.”

“What did he do? Hang out with Angelina?” He asked, thankfully lowering his voice to a soft mumble. At least he had enough sense to keep this part away from the audience beside us.

My eyes flickered up to him.

George smiled gently; his lips laced with sympathy. We both knew that it hurt me, but he hadn’t meant it as an attack.

I cringed inwardly, my guts contorting inside of me. _No,_ this wasn’t just about Angelina. Could he stop with that awful assumption and give me some credit? The Angelina of it all had been pushed aside already that day, it had been stomached by me. I had ensured that it wasn’t an issue. It was all of the other stuff that had happened afterward that had forced this strain. This was Fred’s doing, not mine, and not Angelina’s.

Leave it to the audacity of men to blame a woman’s pained heart as the sole reason for everything going to utter shit.

“No.”

George raised a brow.

I glared up at him, ripping the edges of the parchment. “The fact that you think it’s about her makes you as daft as your brother.”

Sighing, George dropped the legs of his chair back down on the library floor dramatically. They hit the ground with a loud bang, drawing the attention of every single student around us.

I winched, glancing over the librarian who was standing with her hand on her chest as though expecting a heart attack to strike at any moment. She immediately seemed to deflate when she saw that it was George grinning up at her innocently. She shushed us both.

“Look,” he said softly, turning back to me as the librarian had sat back down. “You’re both miserable, and that’s making me miserable.”

I rolled my eyes, flattening out the parchment.

This was not about him, and it wasn’t about making life easier for him either. The only way to fix this and make me happy, which would in turn make George happy, was for Fred to apologize. We both knew that he wasn’t going to suck it up after so much time had passed, especially when he had been as angry as he was. I surely wasn’t going to put my tail between my legs and beg him to be a good friend.

Over my dead body.

“The Draco thing just pissed him off. That’s all.” George added, offering a lame shrug.

I couldn’t help but let out another strained laugh, now brutally pushing down on my parchment. My thumb pushed against it, smearing the ink that had scrawled the date on the top right corner.

“I wasn’t aware that I had to get permission from you boys to speak to people,” I snapped. ‘Should I write him a list of everyone I’ve had a conversation with today? Maybe he’ll think I shagged all of them, too.”

George smiled despite himself, shaking his head.

“That is not what I meant. Draco is different. Draco called you a…,” he quickly looked around to ensure nobody was listening and leaned down close. “ _Mudblood.”_

That bloody word.

“You think I forgot about that?” I asked him in disbelief, and I couldn’t hide the hurt that I felt in that moment. Those words hurt, yes, but so did Fred’s. “I haven’t forgiven Malfoy; I just had a civil conversation with him and he repaid the favor. Plus, if my knickers aren’t in a bunch about something that happened years ago, then how the hell can Fred’s be?” 

George stared at me, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

We looked at each other for a few seconds. George was waiting for my words to sink into my own head.

Fred didn’t like Draco, and he hated the things he that Draco had said to me in the past, and I was angry that he couldn’t seem to get over that, because I had put it aside. On the other hand, I didn’t like Angelina. I hated her for what she did to him, how she had hurt him, but he seems to have made the decision to get over that and I was not happy about it.

“Pot?” George said as I let out a low breath. He smiled triumphantly, pointing to me. “Kettle.”

I sunk back in my seat again, irritated. “It’s not the same.”

“Oh, but it is,” he reached forward to pat my hands gently.

I shook my head. “I didn’t make Fred feel bad for bringing Angelina to Hogsmeade with us. Fred did do that to me, George. Fred chose to be cruel to me over a drink.”

George rested his hand on top my mine, watching my face fall into that look of empty sadness again.

Sure, Fred and I could blame our anger on two sides of the same argument, but the end result was the difference. I had chosen the high road in order to spare his feelings, and he hadn’t taken two seconds to consider mine.

It wasn’t the same thing.

God when would this stop _hurting?_

George, who had taken pause to consider what I had said, squeezed my hand once. “Fine, you’re right.”

I glanced up at him, feeling a rush of relief that I was being understood.

That ick had started to sprout deep in my stomach again. It seemed to take life anytime that I started to think about that day in Hogsmeade, or that night in the common room. Would I ever just get _over_ this? Or would this feeling follow me everywhere, treading in the back of mind for the rest of the year?

“Is that your Care of Magical Creatures essay?” George asked lightly, pulling the parchment out from under my hands. His eyes skimmed the paper quickly. “What are we writing about?”

I stared at him. “Fairies.”

“Of course,” he nodded, and slid the parchment back to me. He grabbed one of my textbooks and forced it open, beginning to flip through the index. “I’ll mark the pages that I find about fairies.”

“You have class,” I reminded him gently.

George continued to read, not looking back up to meet my eyes.

He shrugged. “Ah, nobody will miss me.”

I watched him busy himself in the text, dog-earring the pages that he thought were important. It was the most attention I’d ever seen him give to schoolwork.

I reached for my quill again, grabbing the other textbook. I glanced up at George who was hyper-focused on his task, and smiled gently. I was grateful for a friend like him.

I hadn’t even realized that the ick had dissolved itself.


	13. 13. The Fire is Where I Find You

I was lounging on the common room couch later that evening. I had every intention on catching up on DADA readings, especially since I knew that Umbridge would be hyper-focused on us for the next few weeks, but after I had dropped off my books in the dorm, I wound up thinking about my conversation with George instead. I dragged myself into the common room and slumped down onto the couch, swearing it would only be for ten minutes.

I’m not sure how much time had passed, but it must have been a couple of hours. The Slytherin Quidditch team sauntered in after their practice had ended. I heard them coming before I saw them. The muffles of words turned into decipherable conversations as the group edged toward the dormitories, closer to the fireplace.

Malfoy snapped orders at Flint, as though he had the authority to make the calls of a captain.

Most of the players passed me without notice, heading to their respective dormitories. A few of them glanced over when they caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of their eyes, lying on the couch, almost unseen. I smiled tightly as a handful of them nodded in a quick, polite hello.

Most of them descended to their dorms without a word. Draco, on the other hand, hung back. He made his way around the couch, gray eyes sliding over my position slowly.

I expected him to say hello and go on his merry way like the rest of his team. I wanted him to. Then, I could sit here and wallow in self-pity all alone like the pathetic mug that I had become. Instead, Draco dropped himself into the loveseat across from me, crossing his legs at the ankles as he rested them atop the table.

I stared at him skeptically, hoping he could sense my annoyance.

He smirked in response, seeming to enjoy my growing distaste surrounding this relationship that was sprouting between the pair of us.

“Can I be of assistance, Malfoy?” I asked sarcastically, refusing to move from the position I had committed myself to. I looked a mess. My chin was pressed into itself as I glared at him from my position on my back, and my arms and legs were hanging over the couch like a forgotten puppet.

Malfoy brought his hand up to his chin, resting his prominent jaw atop his thumb. He eyed me curiously, two fingers pressed against his lips.

I glared at him with a challenging stare. “Well?”

That smirk tugged at his pale lips again, and he let out a small breath, dropping his hand onto the arm of the chair.

“I couldn’t possibly care about the answer, but what is it this time?” He asked.

I narrowed my eyes at his feeble attempt to lend an ear. “Well, shove off then.”

“Quail again?” he asked, tapping his fingers against the leather of the chair. “Or a Weasley this time around?”

I huffed in response, glaring over toward the fire. If he wanted to be a git, then I would allow him to do so on all on his own.

Draco continued to tap his long fingers against the leather of the loveseat.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

_Tap, tap, tap._

_“_ Oh, for god’s sake Draco!” I snapped, abruptly sitting up enough to meet his eyes. I stared at him in disbelief. I clearly did not desire to have any company at the moment, and I had made that as bloody obvious as a heart attack, so could he kindly piss off?

Draco stopped tapping, but didn’t budge, his eyes locked on me with amusement.

“I don’t know what your bloody problem is lately, Aurora,” he said, but his voice wasn’t laced with malice. “But the sooner you realize you are far too powerful of a witch to be brooding over an imbecile, _whichever_ one it is, the better. You’re too smart to let them get into your head.”

I glared at him; my patience was wearing thin. Sure, he may be trying to be nice, but pulling me away from a fight and trying to be someone that I confide in were two very different things. It was especially off-putting when I wasn’t quite in the mood for unsolicited opinions.

I didn’t trust Draco Malfoy, no matter which version of himself that he decided to be today. He was still Draco, and I was still Aylia. Our blood statuses, our friend groups, and our history hadn’t changed.

“A powerful witch?” I scoffed, dropping my head back to the couch cushion. In an attempt to force him to leave, I spat my next comment at him. “I seem to remember you calling me something _much_ different not too long ago.”

His smile wavered, and his eyes fluttered from me to the fire.

I stared at him as I laid there, watching his jaw set tightly. He either couldn’t meet my eyes again, or maybe he was just choosing not to. Fueled by a rush of new emotion, perhaps forcing my anger for Fred into my response to Draco, I scrambled quickly to sit up.

He jumped slightly at my spastic movement, finally meeting my eyes with a hard stare.

“You know that being nice to me a few days a week doesn’t make up for that, correct?” I seethed, clutching my blanket in my lap. “I need to know that you understand that, Malfoy.”

He held my cold stare. Gray staring at gray with an unwavering nerve.

“I never insinuated that it would,” he said finally.

“Then what in the hell is all of this?” I said erratically, waving my hands between us. “The compliments, the rounds of drinks, the pulling me out of the common room before I hex somebody that you don’t even like?

Draco swallowed, not looking away as I glared at him, demanding an explanation.

Did I need one? No. I could act like this was normal for the remainder of the year and then go back to never speaking to Draco Malfoy again- happily. But the root of this miserable feeling in my stomach was because I desperately needed an explanation, an apology, from someone who meant an unbearable amount to me.

If I wasn’t going to get the explanation that I wanted, I needed this one.

I looked at him desperately. “Draco?”

His eyes slid back to the fire.

“You’re honest,” he said quietly, after a beat of silence passed between us. He said it like it was a deep secret he had kept, clutched tightly to his chest for years.

I frowned, watching his jaw clench and unclench again. His internal battle on whether or not he should say anything more was being conveyed without words.

“Pardon me?” I whispered.

“You’re honest,” he repeated, much more bluntly this time, harsher. “You say what you want, you do what you want, and you never back down from what you want.”

He turned to me then, abruptly leaning toward my couch, and I recoiled on instinct.

His eyes met mine in a hard, unwavering look of vulnerability. This was a lot for him to admit aloud, especially to me. I could see it in the regret woven through the lines on his face.

“Bloody hell, Aylia,” he said in a whisper, my first name sounding foreign slipping off of his tongue. “Even with _professors._ You have a spine the size of a bloody dragon. I can’t name a single person who is quite like you.”

We looked at each other in silence. I warmed a bit at his words, bringing the guards I had built around my ego down an inch or so. What Draco had said was not an apology, and it was nowhere near an excuse for uttering horrible slurs at me, but it _was_ a reason. My best friend could not even give me this much.

Did he not consider himself to be an honest man? I never pegged Draco as somebody who held back saying _exactly_ how he felt. He strutted around with an air of pride, confident in who he was and what he believed in, despite the majority of the wizarding world no longer aligning with those beliefs. He wore the Malfoy name like a badge of honor.

Sure, he was mostly all bark, and fled before others could bite- but I never thought of Draco Malfoy as disingenuous or dishonest.

“You’ve known I was honest for years,” I said quietly.

He shrugged. “Maybe, but I think I only recently realized how much I respected it.”

I ran my hands over the material of the blanket as I watched him turn back to the fire. It was hard not to wonder what had brought on this sudden respect for me.

Was Draco feeling incapable of being his genuine self in the presence of others, or was he just sick of his arse-kissing best friends being ‘yes-men’ to every word he spoke?

I wasn’t sure the reason, but he _was_ attempting to be a bit less of a prick this year, even though there was an air of sadness that I couldn’t put my finger on. I recalled that night when I had found him brooding on the couch, alone, and realized that he probably had nobody to talk to when he was feeling this way, that even when Draco was surrounded by others, he was alone.

I was alone too, for the first time in a long time. We now had something in common.

“Draco?” I asked.

“Hm?” he muttered.

“It’s not about Quail.”

He turned, lifting his chin to consider this. I continued to fiddle with the blanket, trying to decipher how far I should go without telling him too much.

Draco had been vulnerable, and it was evident that he was starting to regret it. I had to extend the same respect.

“You don’t have to say any more,” he said quietly, smiling tightly, like he had read my thoughts.

I nodded lamely, suddenly understanding the discomfort that he must have felt. It was a strange sensation to open up to Draco. My head and my heart both wanted to reject it and spew out an insult instead. I wasn’t sure if we’d ever do this with one another again. It _would_ be nice to talk to someone else about Fred, someone with no bias. Surely, I _should_ go to Beatrice, but Draco was here and he was asking. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Whatever they did-,” he started, his voice in a deep whisper.

I awaited the punch-line, the Malfoy moment of destruction. Would he comment on their maturity? On their family? Would he make a jab at their parent’s income like Esmerelda had?

“-It will work itself out,” he finished, giving me a single nod of encouragement. “They’d be fools to let it not.”

I smiled softly in response and watched as his eyes seemed to lighten, a tiny smile poking at the corner of his lips, too.

We sat there for a while, silently watching the fire in each other’s company. The quiet didn’t need to be filled with more conversation. There was an odd comfort in two people, nearly strangers but who had created some form of connection tonight, sitting together in an easy stillness.

I fell asleep on the common room couch with Draco beside me on the loveseat. I focused on the details of his profile as he stared at the flames, his eyes growing heavy, just as sleep pulled me in.

I awoke covered in the blanket I had been holding, but Draco was no longer there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to extend another thank you for the kudos & comments. It really gives me something to look forward to each day when I log in after I post. It's especially impactful during this pandemic. Thank you!


	14. 14. The Tattle Toad

It was in Charms class when the other shoe had dropped.

Umbridge had trotted in, announcing herself with that throat tickle that I had grown to loathe. Despite Flitwick’s hesitancy, she tore the twins and I out of the classroom due to a ‘ _very serious matter that needed immediate intervention’_.

We all looked at each other nervously as she marched us down the hallway one by one in silence. We were being herded toward the Headmaster’s office in a single-file line, the only sound was of Umbridge’s heels clicking against the floor like a death march. We were pigs on our way to the slaughter.

As we approached Dumbledore’s office entryway, Lee was already standing there awkwardly. He had been plucked out of class just moments before and was left here to wait for the rest of us. My eyes met his and he scanned each of our faces, looking for any sign that we knew what was happening. I briskly shook my head as Umbridge lifted her hand to stop us, just in front of the stone gargoyle.

Lee, who shook his head back in response, did not have a clue what Umbridge had discovered either.

Umbridge looked over her shoulder at us, eyes hard and full of warning. We all quickly look ahead again, away from each other, halting our silent communication. Turning back to the gargoyle, she squeaked out the password to access Dumbledore’s office, letting out an angry huff of breath. The staircase groaned and came to life.

Fred turned to me, meeting my worried eyes. He sensed that I was more nervous than usual, my school record hanging over my head this year like a storm cloud. He smiled reassuringly, like this was just another part of the game.

Umbridge guided us up the staircase, where we entered Dumbledore’s dark, cozy, and dimly lit office. The Headmaster was sat at his desk, his hand gripped loosely around his quill as he scribbled something down in a small, leather book. His long and white beard was clipped just a few inches under the chin with a dainty chain to keep it out of the way.

As we stood in front of the pair of them, still in the formation she had ordered us to be in, Dumbledore glanced up over his spectacles. He seemed unsurprised to see that it was the four of us before him.

Fawkes sat on his perch beside the headmaster, his feathers were bright red and slicked back as a sign of comfort. I read a lot about Phoenix’s, and knew that as Fawke’s bowed slightly as Umbridge approached, he was unsure of her and ready to protect. He leaned forward, eying her curiously, his beak lowering to her eye level.

Umbridge jumped back a step, with a tiny, horrified gasp.

I stared at Fawkes in wonder, watching his slow blink and the way he fluffed up his red feathers as a warning. I had been in his presence once or twice over the years, and I was still completely mesmerized by him. What a creature, he was. To have a life-long companion in a pet was every muggle’s dream.

The four of us lined up, shoulder to shoulder, our hands clasped in front of us respectfully. We must have looked guilty as sin to Dumbledore as he watched us, knowing that we rarely had the capacity to look like innocent.

“Professor Dumbledore, these are the students who set off that _trickery_ in my classroom,” she chippered. She turned to look at us in fury, her nostrils flaring.

I glanced over quickly, without moving my head to draw her attention. I stifled a laugh as I noted the stoic, straight faces that my mates were sticking with. Looking back to Dumbledore, I plastered the same empty look on my face.

Dumbledore’s bright eyes slid from the Toad Woman to the four of us. He looked at us each for a moment, a long and drawn-out pause falling over the room, before he slowly shut his book that he had been scrawling in.

“Thank you, Professor,” Dumbledore said. Umbridge nodded confidently, clasping her hands in front of her with a proud smile. “May I ask what evidence you have of this?”

Umbridge seemed startled by the question. She quickly glanced over at us again, and we all stared back at her, unmoving. I’d reckon we were just as curious about the answer to that question as Dumbledore was.

“I have _heard_ of their doings, Headmaster, horrible things. I am sure you have heard the same over the years,” she said, flustered. Her cheeks flushed pink as Dumbledore seemed unconvinced with her reasoning.

“Well yes, I have heard a lot of things in my time, I’m afraid,” Dumbledore peered at her curiously. “You did not think I could punish these students because you have _heard_ some things, did you?”

I pressed my lips together tightly to keep from smiling. I felt Fred twitch beside me too, trying to suppress his own laughter. To keep from losing it entirely, I dropped my stare down to the floor, fixating on the markings on the carpet.

“Headmaster, they are known to be quite the troublemakers. You and I both know that those Weasley boys were behind those _horrid_ gadgets that traumatized my first-year students!” Umbridge’s face was now beat red as she gawked at Dumbledore in shock.

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered to us again for a moment. I caught a hint of bemusement as he looked us over, four misfits that were far too good at the games they played. Perhaps he was seeing the younger versions of us then, standing before him with hung heads and oversized robes. Although years had passed, this view had never changed.

“If you have any confirmation, of any sorts, that proves that this event was performed by these four,” Dumbledore said softly, gesturing to us with a wave of his hand. “Then we can discuss reprimanding them for their actions, but until that moment arises, there is nothing further that I can do, Dolores.”

“Nothing further _?_ You have done nothing at all! _”_ Umbridge shrieked in horror.

Lee full on let out a laugh then, making all of us, including the Headmaster, turn to look at him. Pathetically, he attempted to cover it with a weak cough, hiding his face with his hand.

I glanced at George beside him, whose eyes were watering as he stared over Dumbledore’s head. Merlin, they would have to excuse us soon or one of these idiots was going to give us up entirely.

Dumbledore glanced back at Professor Umbridge, who was still glowering at us in a wide-eyed fury.

“You _must_ allow me to give them detention. On top of that, I believe we should take twenty points from each of them!” She was shaking now, her hands balling into fists. Her blush had spread all of the way up her neck and down her arms.

Dumbledore watched her from over his spectacles. Though professional as always, he seemed to find the utmost amusement in her undoing.

“Dolores, I cannot possibly agree to that when we have no way to be certain these students were at fault.”

“I-,” Umbridge started, taking a brave step toward both Dumbledore and Fawkes.

“-You should be going back to your classroom now, Professor, but please come and see me if you do find that information you are seeking.”

I was stunned. Dumbledore had just excused Umbridge right in front of us, like a child being sent to their room as a punishment. They stared at each other, in a tense standoff, but Umbridge had to know that this was the one battle she could not win. She was from the Ministry, yes, but she was just another professor. Ultimately, she had to answer to Dumbledore.

“Children,” she tutted, turning around quickly to glare at us. “Back to class immediately.’

“One moment,” Dumbledore interrupted her, raising a hand. “You go on ahead, Dolores. I would like to have a word with them.”

Umbridge’s thin lips curved up into a pleased smirk. Her eyes scanned us darkly, evidently thinking that despite avoiding punishment, we were about to get verbally reprimanded but the Headmaster anyhow. That air of confidence seemed to puff back into her chest.

“Of course, Headmaster,” she said, and she kept her eyes on us as she stormed out of the room. The air in the office immediately lifted as she shut the door at the bottom of the stairs behind her.

Dumbledore’s eyes slid back to us, and he stopped trying to hide his smile now that Umbridge had vacated the office. He stood, revealing dark blue robes littered with a white pattern of stars and constellations. He stepped out from behind his desk slowly, his hands grazing the top of the wood, watching us with a curious sense of intrigue. 

“Miss. Aurora,” he said softly, and my body immediately tensed. Dumbledore peered at me, that twinkle back his eye. “If memory serves me correctly, you have an inclination toward magical creatures.”

I swallowed, nodding in response. “Yes, sir.”

“Well,” he said, gesturing to Fawkes.

Dumbledore held out his hand right under the Phoenix’s talons. Without needing to be encouraged, Fawkes climbed onto his master’s hand, quickly inching his way up to sit on his forearm.

“Fawkes is as magical as any. Would you like to come and interact with him? I don’t believe that Hagrid will have any Phoenix’s in his classroom this year, I’m afraid.”

My eyes widened as Fawkes shook his feathers. I turned to my friends, who were all watching me with goofy smiles on their lips. They were obviously quite happy to have gotten away with our prank, but they also seemed thrilled for how monumental of a moment this was for me. 

I walked to Fawkes on numb legs. I had no doubt the creature would be kind, but I had never imagined I’d get this intimately close to a Phoenix in my seven years at Hogwarts. I had been satisfied with just watching Fawkes from afar each time I’d been in Dumbledore’s office.

Dumbledore’s smile only grew as I approached. He was stroking the Phoenix’s back gently with the rear of his free hand.

Fawkes eyed me curiously, in a different way than he had Umbridge. As I walked up to him, slowly closing the gap between us, he bowed his head to take a closer look at my features. He cocked his head as I came to a stop in front of him.

I stared up at him with childlike wonder.

Dumbledore lowered his arm, nodding at me.

He wanted me to hold the Phoenix.

“Really?” I blinked, and he nodded.

I gulped, trying my hardest to bottle the emotions that were threatening to spill over. I could feel excited tears brimming at the back of my eyelids. I lifted my arm straight out beside me, like Dumbledore had done, and held my breath as the Headmaster guided Fawkes onto my arm.

I let out a breath at the weight of him. He was quite heavy, heavier than I had imagined, but the Phoenix seemed to know what he was doing. He scurried up my arm to evenly distribute his weight. I stared at him, my eyes now blurring, and he cocked his head- equally intrigued with me.

“Hi,” I whispered to him as we looked at each other.

He bowed his head, clicking his beak. Quickly, he scurried up my arm and took a seat on my shoulder. I let out a thrilled giggle, spinning around as he did so. Fawkes leaned down to bury his face within my curls, shaking his head in the mass of it. He was playing with my hair.

I looked to the guys in awe.

They were beaming, watching me with pride like I was their child at their first Quidditch game.

“Well, Miss. Aurora,” Dumbledore said from beside me, and I turned slowly with Fawkes on my shoulder. “I think you will make an excellent Creature Healer.”

I blinked, pushing the tears back down. I had no words; I was so incredibly grateful for his kindness, for allowing me this formative moment that I would truly never forget. This would forever be imprinted in my heart.

As Dumbledore reached for Fawkes, taking him off of my shoulder and out of my hair, he gently advised us to go back to class. Our eyes locked as he placed Fawkes back on his perch.

“Thank you so much, Professor Dumbledore. I will never forget this.” I said quietly, my voice cracking against my will.

Dumbledore smiled, peering up at my friends from the top of his spectacles again. “I hope you will spare me any headaches by refraining from making any more students scream for the remainder of the term.”

Fred and George smirked up at him, not even bothering to hide their satisfaction. The three of them nodded in unison.

As we left Dumbledore’s office, the four of us forced into a unit again, we exploded into excited chatter, reliving every single moment of that interaction.

Umbridge had been _humiliated._ Dumbledore had known it was us and chose to pardon us, and I touched a bloody Phoenix.

As if we had perfected this song and dance, Fred and I managed to avoid speaking directly. My overwhelming happiness seemed to skid to a halt as I realized that I could not possibly enjoy moments like these anymore, not while we acted like this.

I looked at him, watching as he hung back and chose not take control of the conversation, so unlike the Freddie I knew.

This wasn’t us.

But we had gone days without talking. We were avoiding each other instead of stealing small moments with one another, and those moments were the backbone of our friendship. Neither of us seemed to feel like we could be those people anymore.

This _was_ us now.

I swallowed as George and Lee burst into laughter. Fred’s eyes drifted to mine, a weak smile on his lips. I wonder if he realized just how much had changed.

_I’m sorry._

_I really bloody miss you._

_Can we just go back to being who we were before all of this?_

He tore his eyes away, slapping his brother on the shoulder as we walked back to our classroom at a respectable distance.

_No. We can’t._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! The reception for the last chapter was incredible!
> 
> Thank you, guys!


	15. 15. The Fix and the Fairy

The next few weeks went by with no changes.

I avoided my friends as much as possible, excusing myself from Hogsmeade trips, and choosing to stay indoors for Quidditch matches. It was strange, spending most of my time alone, I hadn’t known that feeling since my second year.

Eventually, September dissolved into the crisp autumn of October, and my friends started to feel more like my history rather than my present.

The sadness crawled in and slept inside of my conscience. Seeing the boys in class was one thing, but there were those small moments in the hall, where they would pass and we’d look to each other, feeling how strange and foreign it was to not speak. Those moments hurt the most.

George and Lee would seek me out, often separately, to spend time with me on their own. Even if we were just sitting in the library, they seemed content with the lingering silence as long as we were in each other’s company. There was an elephant in the room, lingering between us, but it seems that we had all chosen to just stop addressing it.

It crushed me to hear about their Quidditch wins in class, or in the hallways the next day. I wanted to be there, watching and cheering them on, but instead I was learning of their remarkable plays by word of mouth. I was pathetic, more worried about if Angelina would be there too, and if she’d scream out Fred’s name when he made a good play, that it stopped me from being able to go all together. I couldn’t stomach it.

It was mid-October now, and my only source of happiness was spending every Sunday with the fairies. It had taken a month, but I had managed to meet every single one of them over time. My patience had definitely paid off. There was a shy fairy in the bunch, a little thing with fiery red hair, who hadn’t even trusted Hagrid very much- but she seemed to take a liking to me. She was quickly becoming my favorite.

Draco and I didn’t have many chats like we did that one night around the fire. We’d offer up small nods to each other in the halls, but we didn’t spend much time hanging out. Sometimes in the common room, we’d sit at the tables together and work on our schoolwork. We didn’t speak much, one of us just choosing to join the other when we noticed the other was alone.

It was surprisingly nice. He couldn’t possibly know how much it helped me, having those quiet moments with him, but it aided how lonely I felt immensely.

It was Sunday now, nearing the evening. Hagrid had gone up to speak to Dumbledore, and I was left tending to the fairies. He didn’t need to help me much anymore, which gave him free time to take care of his other creatures. I had collected some wild flowers from around the entrance to the forest, their home, and offered them like I had the food. I had read, on one of those pages that George had earmarked, that they thrived when around their natural habitat. If you presented them gifts from their home, they’d start formulating a bond with you.

The text was right. The little orange fairy had loved the gift the most. She fluttered out of her trunk and sat on my hand, playing with the petals of a bright purple flower. She took her time touching and nuzzling it while on my hand, too excited to wait until she brought it inside. Sometimes, she’d be so enamored with the look and colour of the plant that she’d halt, and I’d get a good, rare, look at her red and pink wings as they stilled.

I had just finished cleaning the outside of one of the trunks, washing it down with cloth and rain water, when I heard someone clear their throat. I pushed myself up, my eyes poking out from above the top of the trunk, which was almost my height.

I froze when I saw Fred, his bright eyes waiting for me, not noticing that I was peeking up at him from over the fairies’ home. My heart stilled, going into defensive mode, as though if it kept beating, he was surely going to break it. Slowly, I crouched down again, dropping the cloth back into the bucket of rain water.

 _Get a grip._ I said to myself, taking in a deep breath. _It’s just Fred._

Standing, trying my best to exude and air of confidence, I stepped out from behind the tree trunks. Fred’s eyes quickly met mine, and he nodded in a hello, burying his hands in the pocket of his jumper.

I stopped a few feet away from him, wiping my damp hands on my trousers. “Yeah?”

He smiled weakly, and I swear I saw a hint of a wince following my cold tone. “Can we speak a minute?”

Sighing, I pushed my hair out of my face, hoping to give off the impression that I was _incredibly_ busy and this was going to take me away from some truly important research.

“Sure,” I said.

We looked at each other, but neither of us spoke. My stomach knotted slowly as I looked at him, loathing the frown lines and quiet demeanor of somebody so unlike my best mate. It was different, seeing him alone. It hurt more.

“I, uh- figured I should come and talk to you,” he said quietly, and he seemed to search my eyes as he spoke, as though he wanted me to read his mind so that he didn’t have to say anything further.

I nodded, encouraging him to continue. I was sticking to my guns. I would not offer an apology or explanation first. I needed to know why, but I needed to hear it from him. I could not assist him, guiding him toward what I _wanted_ him to say. I needed Fred to explain, in his own words and powered by his own heart, why he had hurt me.

“I don’t like this, you not being around,” he started, and he still hadn’t smiled. “It’s shit, Aylia. I don’t want to keep doing this.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Do you think I’m enjoying myself?”

“No,” he said immediately. “I don’t think that, but I do think if I don’t come down here and do this, we’ll continue this way for the rest of the year.”

I nodded dramatically, like that was the most obvious point to have noticed, like that should have been realized a month ago. He had seen how upset he had made me, and George had to have told him that I was not going to offer up forgiveness to somebody who hadn’t even sought it out. Fred knew all of this, and it had still taken him weeks to get here.

“I just don’t think I’m the only one in the wrong,” he said, frustrated. He dropped his hands from his pocket and looked to me, helplessly.

I stared at him, my eyes narrowing. “You _what?”_

“You were being an asshole too, Aylia. You were pissed that Angelina was there, and so you threw _Malfoy,_ of all bloody people, in my face.”

He must have sensed that that had been the wrong thing to say, because he took a quick step backward as my eyes burned a hole in his face. How the hell had I used Malfoy to get at him? It didn’t make any sense. By sharing a story that I thought they’d find funny with them, I was throwing _what_ in his face?

“Come off it,” I snapped. “Angelina has nothing to do with it. I was polite to her, and I was kind to you. Our little spat didn’t begin until _you_ started it.”

Fred rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off before he could make this any worse.

“It was Malfoy buying us drinks that set you off, and then _you-,”_ I took a step forward, pressing my finger in his chest. “Called me a slag for it.”

Fred didn’t make any moves to push my hand away. He looked down at me carefully. “I will admit that the shagging Malfoy comment was unjustified-.”

“-But telling me Angelina has some sort of power over me, like I have absolutely no agency of my own, was not?”

I hadn’t realized that I had pushed forward even further. We were standing dangerously close, me glaring up at him as the wind blew my hair in between us, as though it could feel the storm brewing between the two of us.

Fred pressed his lips together tightly as his eyes searched mine. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“I-,” I started again, loudly. I had been expecting more protests, more of this blame game that seemed to insinuate that I had caused my own painful humiliation that day at Hogsmeade. He backed down then as he looked into my eyes, either _finally_ understanding my point or choosing to let me have this. “-What?”

“I am,” he said again, eyes burning into mine. “I don’t know what came over me, but I know that I would have beaten someone else if they had said those things to you.”

I blinked, watching his eyes soften as I relaxed. We stood nearly chest to chest, anger quickly dissolving from the both of us. His shoulders deflated a little bit, and he seemed to lean into me.

There he was again. Freddie.

“It was just Malfoy. I thought it would have been a good story,” I offered, lamely, my voice sounding small to my own ears.

“I know,” he nodded, and he reached up slowly. My breath got caught in my throat as I froze, our eyes carefully watching each other, scared to break one another.

For a moment I thought that he was going to press his palm against my cheek, that he was going to hold me. But as his hand found my face, Fred pressed his knuckles lightly to my jaw, a small smile cracking through his sad façade, his rosy lips suddenly lighting up his whole face again- all the way to his eyes.

Without thinking, I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his middle. I tugged him toward me rather roughly and felt him deflate even further, like he was relieved for the shift between us. His arms wound around my shoulders tightly, giving me a squeeze.

“Let’s not do this again. I’ll throw myself off of the astronomy tower, I swear I will,” I muttered into his shirt, taking in a whiff of cinnamon and fire crackers.

His fingers found my hair, messing it up under his touch. He laughed lightly. “Never. Unless you really do shag Malfoy and then I’m sorry, but-.”

I pushed myself backward, punching him softly on the chest, mocking offense. Surely, he knew it was a ruse as I laughed under my breath, pushing out my bottom lip. I pressed down the curls at the back of my head which he had purposefully made awry.

Fred burst into laughter, rubbing the spot where my fist had hit as though it had hurt. He beamed at me, more vibrant now that we had finally made amends. I could match that feeling, it spread through the pair of us with a warmth of a setting sun.

He buried his hands in the front pocket of his jumper again and nodded behind me. “Alright, now show me these fairies, will ‘ya?”

My lips curved into an excited smile. I waved him over to the tree trunks, thrilled to be sharing this immense love of mine with somebody else. I guided Fred by the shoulders to a spot a few feet away from the fairies’ dwellings, where he would be a safe enough distance that the creatures would not be too startled.

I let out a small laugh as I watched him prepare for this moment. He stood as still as a light pole, planting his feet in the grass, and sucked in a dramatic breath. When he was confident that he was in the perfect position, Fred met my eyes and nodded rigidly.

Going to one of the trunks, I placed some berries and some flowers on my hand- just the leftovers from earlier in the day. I held my hand out in front of the entrance and waited.

I glanced at Fred with a smile, holding up a single finger as if to tell him to be patient.

He raised his eyebrows, still standing perfectly still, and nodded.

After two minutes, my favorite little red-headed fairy came out to see me. My heart stopped, as it usually did when I was awed by their presence, but this was even more of monumental moment for me. I could not believe my eyes, that it was her, my little spit-fire who decided to make a visit while Fred stood just a few steps away. She fluttered toward me, glancing at Fred for only a second, and landed on my palm.

As she gathered the berries, I looked to my friend. Instead of watching her, his eyes were locked on me, his smile growing as I widened my eyes and looked back and forth between him and the fairy.

 _Come on Freddie._ I thought. _How bloody beautiful is this?_

My little friend scooped up the flowers, jumbling all of her goodies in her tiny arms. She looked up at me and wiggled her tiny little nose. This was the most eye contact I had managed with any of them so far. The fairy fluttered her wings a bit and pushed off of my hand, disappearing back into the trunk.

I was about to turn to Fred with a flash of new excitement, demanding that he tell me how cool he had found that interaction, but as I turned, I had spotted something that had changed my life in a matter of seconds.

I froze, staring at my hand in awe.

Fred, who was unsure if he could move yet, called to me. “That was bloody wicked!”

“Freddie,” I whispered in shock, slowly turning to look at him.

His smile faltered at my expression, the tears now brimming in my eyes. He rushed forward and gripped my wrists as I held my hands out in front of me, cupped together.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

As he grabbed my arms, I turned my palm, showing him the treasure that had been left there for me. His hands gently laid underneath mine as the light caught the sparkle of the orange fairy dust that was glittering my hand - a gift.

Fred and I slowly looked at each other, eyes wide. He didn’t seem to know what this meant, but he could sense just how important it was. His smile grew with mine. 

“Fairy dust,” I whispered in bliss.


	16. 16.  The Heat in the Dungeons

The next week felt normal. A blissfully ordinary few days, where order had thankfully restored itself. Fred and I had quickly dissolved back into our friendship with ease, much to George and Lee’s content. To make matters even better, Angelina was seldom around either.

Umbridge had made it clear in class that she was going to watch our every move. Instead of monitoring each student from the front of the classroom, she chose to place a chair in the center of the room, right in the middle of the desks, and stare at us as we read our texts. This went on for weeks.

It was painfully awkward for me, who she parked her chair right in front of. I could feel the burn of her eyes as I glared at my text book, hoping that Fred and George would behave behind me so that she would refrain from doing this for the rest of term. To avoid a full-on nuclear war between us and Umbridge, I didn’t risk looking back at them to gage how they were feeling.

It was Thursday when I had climbed the Quidditch stands to watch Slytherin play Hufflepuff. Flocked by Flo and Beatrice, they had managed to convince me to paint our house colors in small stripes on my cheek, a sign of loyalty to our team.

I couldn’t help but watch Draco as the match continued, carefully noting how he played his position. It was hard not to compare him to Potter as I watched him. While Harry was quiet, precise, and quick in the game- Draco was sly, inconspicuous, and clever. Though Harry’s skills might often win against Draco’s, Draco was quite powerful as a Seeker in his own right.

The Hufflepuff team hadn’t stood a chance, especially with their new Seeker who had replaced Warten after he had graduated last year. Draco dominated her, though you could see she would come into the position the more she played, and he wound up catching the snitch rather quickly.

The crowd erupted around me, Florence screaming bloody murder in my ear as she jumped up and down, latching onto both me and Beatrice. Draco soared down to the pitch, planting his feet firmly on the ground, and dropped his broom in the grass. He held the small golden ball in his hand, wings now within, and showed it off to the crowd.

I couldn’t see his face, or where those cold gray eyes were looking, but I could envision the smug smirk on his face as his house exploded into chants of his name. I let out a little laugh, clapping along with them. Surely, his head wasn’t going to fit into the common room later on.

The common room party escalated quickly. Beatrice, Flo and I plopped ourselves down on the couch and filled our glasses with Firewhiskey. I wished the twins and Lee would come to some of our parties, but they were adamant about keeping distance between themselves and the Slytherin Quidditch team, to the point that I had stopped asking them to join in year four.

If you’d ever attended a Slytherin party, you’d understand why I felt a deep need to have them here. They would fit in so easily; it was almost criminal. They’d sit here, making everyone laugh until the music became so loud and bass heavy that they’d drink and dance until we were all exhausted and sweat-filled. Slytherin parties were quite a different energy to a Gryffindor party, which was more social and chatter-based.

As the music amped up, some dark song with a menacing beat, Florence got up and immediately took off for the open space behind the couches. Beatrice and I craned our necks to watch her. With an air of confidence that I could never possess, Florence grabbed Blaise Zabini by his undone tie and pulled him toward her.

Blaise’s hands immediately went to Flo’s waist. Seductively, Florence spun around, her hair falling out of her braid in and into her eyes, and she backed up into Blaise’s arms. The continued to dance together.

The lights were dark, a dim tint of green illuminating the room. From behind Blaise and Flo, who were now dancing so intimately that I felt like I was being horribly intrusive by watching, I caught Draco’s eyes. He was leaning against a table near the common room door, his eyes seemed to have found me through the crowd. Slowly, he brought his cup to his lips.

I swallowed. Maybe it was the music, the Firewhiskey, or the bodies dancing in front of me, but I felt _something_ tingle inside of my stomach as we watched each other.

I turned back to the fire, trying to gather my composure. It was the alcohol, surely. My sober brain would never feel a sudden attraction toward Malfoy, not this deeply. Maybe it was the way his hair was messy and unkempt, falling in front of his eyes- making him look like a rougher version of himself. Maybe it was the way he kept eye contact with little to no shame at all.

Whatever it was, I felt the sudden need to evacuate before I felt it again.

Beatrice leaned into me, her hands on my shoulder. She brought her lips close to my ear. “Look at Flo.”

I turned again, back to the party, where Flo and Blaise were now locked around each other- their mouths connected, still managing to keep to the beat of the music as their lips moved against each other.

Beatrice pressed forward so I could hear her, but my eyes had found Draco’s again. He was watching me carefully, Beatrice pressed against my body and her mouth near my ear, Draco’s hand began to rub the bottom of his jaw as I held his gaze.

“Should we go dance?” Beatrice yelled into my ear.

I blinked, looking away from Draco, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “You go, I’ll come over in a minute.”

Beatrice pulled back, eyeing me curiously. “What? You love to dance, come on.”

I smiled, pushing my hair out of my face, trying to regain control of my own brain. ‘Two minutes.”

Beatrice nodded, leaning forward to give me a quick, drunken kiss on the cheek. She stood, her alcohol sloshing out of her cup and onto the couch, and swayed her hips all of the way to the dance floor.

I pressed my hands to my face, staring at the fire, desperately trying to stop focusing on the feeling that the deep, shaking bass was giving me. The song was animalistic, dark even, it reached into depths of me that I had forgotten about.

I brought my Firewhiskey to my lips, downing the rest of my cup.

_What the bloody hell had gotten into me?_

I suddenly wished I had chosen to have a quiet night with my friends tonight. My brain was fuzzy. I felt awfully confused, and I didn’t like the feeling that had sprung into my belly when those gray, steel-like eyes had drunk me in.

A full, opened bottle of Firewhiskey appeared in front of my face. My hands still covering my face, I pulled them away, looking up at the body that was attached to the white dress shirt which was holding the alcohol like an offering.

Draco nodded to me, his messy hair bouncing as his did. “Looks like you need a refill.”

I sucked in a breath, leaning back on the couch, snatching the full bottle out of his hands. Hungrily, I took a big, long swig, hoping that it would numb all feelings, especially this one.

Draco sat on the love seat beside me. I was immediately grateful that he hadn’t taken a seat next to me on the couch, the thought of him being so close was inciting my fight or flight instincts.

Draco held out his hand. Greedily, I took another swig before I handed him back the bottle.

I watched carefully as he leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees, and took a long drink of his own. His eyes slid to me as soon as he was done, and he placed the bottle on the table between us.

I cleared my throat. “Good game tonight.”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth curling upward. “I noticed you had finally come to your senses.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“I saw you in the stands, Aurora.” He said loudly, over the music. He leaned forward, closer to me, so that I could hear him. “I’m surprised that you took my advice to root for the winning team.”

I let out a scoff, mostly acting the part of a displeased, and unimpressed, girl. “Well, you have yet to win against Gryffindor.”

His eyes clouded over, jaw setting almost immediately. I recognized that I had gone too far, but I couldn’t help but find it utterly humorous that _this_ was Malfoy’s last straw. I had said the cruelest things I could think of to this boy, and his façade never faltered- but Quidditch is where he drew the line.

“Hey,” I said. I grabbed the bottle off of the table as his eyes fluttered back to mine. I grinned, raising it to my lips. “It’s a joke, Draco. You can laugh.”

He warmed a bit, a small smile tugging on his pink lips. He leaned back gently, shaking his head as he watched me take another shot.

“You have been hanging out with the Weasels for far too long. They don’t know that their jokes are rubbish either.”

I smirked, handing Draco the bottle, which he took quickly. He took a long swig and swallowed, glancing over at the dancing bodies. I followed suit, noticing that Beatrice had found a group of girls to dance with. I couldn’t spot Florence anywhere.

I turned back to Draco, but he was already looking at me, holding the bottle between his knees. He scanned my face carefully, seeming to be calculating something in his head.

“Do you reckon you’d want to dance?” he asked, swishing the Firewhiskey in the bottle.

I tucked a curl behind my ear, thinking about the audience that Flo and Blaise had managed to gather. I didn’t want that attention, and I was not sure that I’d want Draco’s hands on me either.

“I tend to stick to dancing with girls,” I said, and he smiled knowingly.

Taking a quick swig, he slammed the bottle down onto the table and stood, holding out his hand for me.

I stared up at him, about to ask him if he had a hearing deficiency that he’d never told me about. I had _clearly_ just rejected him in the politest way I could muster.

Draco raised both of his eyebrows. “I’ll be an utmost gentleman. None of this dirty dancing bollocks, I promise.”

Sighing, I smacked my hand into his and stood. As he guided me to the dancefloor, and I felt that familiar surge of instant regret, I swooped the bottle that he had left behind as we passed it.

He kept his hand on mine as we pushed through people, and I took three large swigs until he stopped in the center of the group of bodies. Without warning, and without turning to me, Draco quickly and smoothly spun me around and into position.

I let out a yelp, caught off guard.

His hand found my waist, and as his other hand went to take mine. His face contorted into confusion when he saw the Firewhiskey instead. He smirked, peeling it from my hands and quickly passing it to someone behind him. Turning back to me, he took my hand in his and started leading me across the dancefloor.

I could feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. People started to turn to look at us oddly. We were dancing as though we were at the Yule Ball, when the dark and husky music called for an entirely different form of movement. Draco, though drunk, didn’t seem to care about the curious eyes.

I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when he spun me outward, reeling me back in toward him and stopping me promptly. I was a lost cause for knowing steps and how to lead, so Draco was shaping up to be pretty well skilled in the art of ballroom dancing.

Draco seemed to get a kick out of my giggles, and he twirled us even more dramatically. At one point, he had crashed us into Flint’s back, pushing him into Beatrice and her group of dancers.

“Whoops,” Draco muttered, but now we were both in fits of laughter.

I stared right at him, trusting him to bring me where I needed to be, and to only use his own body as our personal bumper car. His eyes locked onto mine, a sparkle consuming them, an extra glimmer of magic that I had never once noted in him before.

He was having fun.

Spinning us around again quick, Draco pulled me closer to him by my hip. I wound my arm around the length of his shoulder, my face pressed close to his face. I could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath, but I could also smell the pine and mint of in his cologne, which stained the skin of his neck.

I tensed, feeling our movements slowing down. We both seemed to have been entranced by our closeness, by the feeling of each other so intimately near. I paused as Draco continued to turn us, now incredibly slowly.

I looked to him carefully. I couldn’t see his eyes, but his hand had slowly started to lower our connected hands, bringing them closer between us. His hand trailed from my hip to my lower back, holding me close to him.

The music didn’t matter anymore, we had our own rhythm in our heads now, entirely made up of our short breaths and racing hearts. We danced slowly and silently, so dangerously close but somehow respectfully. It felt like this dance was the sexiest, riskiest moves that were being made around us. If people were looking, I was either too drunk or too consumed to notice.

Draco pulled back, still holding me close. Our face were inches apart, eyes drinking each other in with a confused desire. His eyes fluttered to my lips.

My head was screaming at me to stop. This was Draco, he was an arrogant prick who belonged to a family of known death eaters. He had called me names that had hurt me and made me question myself as a witch. He had put a wedge between me and the boy who I had fallen in love with at thirteen years old.

I blinked.

_That I what?_

My drunken mind screamed at me, the voice in my head bouncing off every wall of my skull.

_You know who you love._

Draco leaned forward, and I wanted to feel his lips on mine. I felt desperate for it. My body wanted to know what his fingertips felt like all over my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake like a trail of broken promises. It would be a recipe for disaster.

_He chose her. You’re allowed to choose you for once._

“Aylia, look!” I was torn away, ripped right from Draco’s arms.

A small hand was wound around my wrist. Stumbling, I fell into Beatrice who was excitedly pointing forward at the common room couches.

I glanced over my shoulder at Draco, who was staring at the floor where I had left him. His fingers were rubbing the skin on his lips slowly. The ghost of what could have been.

I looked back to Beatrice, who was staring ahead with her jaw agape. She clutched onto my arm.

In front of the fire was Esmerelda, wearing a short top that exposed her middle and tight leather pants that showed off her long legs. She had her arms wrapped tightly around Blaise Zabini’s shoulders, her lips now moving against his at the front of the room, lit by the fire like they were the focal point of the party.

I looked toward the girl’s dormitories, where Florence was watching- stunned. Her lips were red and swollen, a memory left behind after kissing Blaise all night herself.

I set my jaw, locking my sights back on Esmerelda. Point proven, she wasn’t interested in Fred or George. She simultaneously proved that she was also not very interested in keeping any friends.

My eyes looked for Florence again, but I only saw the dormitory door slowly closing shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> I'm not going to lie, this chapter was totally inspired by a TikTok I saw, where they made a video of what they imagined a Slytherin party to be like. It waws very 'rave-y,' and dark and green-lit, and I was obsessed with the idea of it. That is how this chapter was born. 
> 
> If any of you know the TikTok i'm referring to (I can't find it) please let me know and i'll link it.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! This was a very fun chapter to write.


	17. 17. The Snake Bites Back

I turned to Draco, ready to apologize for leaving him after the moment we had just shared, but he had also disappeared from the party. I didn’t have time to look for him, although I desperately wanted to, but I had friend to check up on.

Grabbing the sleeve of Bea’s shirt, I tugged her gently to come with me. We made our way through the crowd, some of which had started cheering for the two making a scene at the front of the party. I couldn’t help but glare at them as I rounded the couches, truly considering whipping out my wand to set Esmerelda’s hair on fire.

I pushed through the doors to the dormitory, climbing the stairs quickly. As we reached the door to our own dorm, I slowly pushed it open, expecting to find Florence crying in her bed.

Instead, she was sitting against the headboard, her arms crossed angrily in front of her, staring ahead at Esmerelda’s empty bed.

She glanced at us briefly as we walked in.

“She’s a twat,” I said immediately.

Beatrice and I went to her, sitting on the end of Florence’s bed, blocking her view of the enemy’s dwellings. Florence was nearly vibrating she was so mad. She had her knees up to her chest, her eyes burning through us. I can only imagine that she was picturing Esmerelda’s head on a stick.

Beatrice reached up and placed a hand on her knee softly. “Are you alright?”

Florence pressed her lips together tightly, finally breaking her death stare on Esmerelda’s things. She quickly dissolved back into her sweet, gentle self again as she looked to us for comfort.

“I don’t even have a _thing_ for Blaise,” her soft voice said, shaking her head in disbelief. “She could have chosen anyone tonight, but she chose the one guy _I_ chose first.”

I nodded in support. It was not the first time Esmerelda completely took advantage of Flo’s distaste for confrontation, of her goodness. Esmerelda capitalized on the weaknesses of others. “Like I said, twat.”

Florence began to nod aggressively. “You are absolutely right. She _is_ quite a little twat.”

Beatrice smiled and patted Florence’s knee with encouragement. “The Twattiest.”

Florence snorted, bursting into a laugh. She uncrossed her arms to cover her lips and she giggled, in an attempt to hide the fact that she found the belittling of her best friend absolutely hysterical.

I shuffled forward so that I was sitting next to her, and I wrapped my arms tightly around her shoulders as our laughter slowly dwindled. Letting out a breath, Florence leaned down to rest her head on my shoulder. Regardless if Florence liked Blaise or not, it had been a particularly wicked thing to do to a friend.

“It’s hard to stick up for her when she does everything wrong,” Flo said quietly.

“Stop sticking up for her,” I said bluntly, rubbing her shoulder as she nuzzled her lightly head on mine. “It isn’t worth it.”

“She doesn’t have anyone else,” Florence replied, glancing up at me without moving her head. “She’s an only child, she was practically raised by nannies and house elves. I’ve been her only constant since we were eleven years old.”

Beatrice smiled sadly, her hand making circles on Flo’s knee. “You’ve been through your fair share too, Flo. You’re still lovely to everyone.”

Florence sighed, nodding. Florence’s mother was killed in the first wizarding war, and her father had turned to drink to cope. She had practically raised her three younger siblings, forfeiting her own childhood. She was the living embodiment of an angel. I can’t think of a single time I’d seen Florence act even remotely rude to someone else.

There was a short silence that followed, all of us left with our own thoughts. I would wager that we were all thinking about times that Es had personally done us harm, but also the many times she had treated poor Flo as a doormat. I could not wait until school ended and I’d never have to see her again. It made the sadness over school ending a little more bearable.

Florence pushed herself off of me, dropping her hands into her lap. She slowly turned to look at me, shuffling her body on top of her comforter. Her face was now harboring a different expression all together, a pained one. She suddenly looked nervous.

“I have to tell you something,” she said softly.

I glanced at Beatrice, who looked to me slowly, eyes clouding in confusion. As if she knew what to expect, she withdrew her hand from Florence’s knee in preparation to take my side.

I looked back at Florence as her eyes fell to her hands.

“What is it, Flo?” I asked, trying to sound gentle. I could feel that whatever she had to say was not going to be pleasant.

She fiddled with her fingers and sucked in a breath. I watched her consider her words before speaking, slowly taking her time to ensure this came across just right, but the dread had already planted itself in my gut. I wanted to reach forward and force her hands away from her lap, begging her to spit it out.

“Flo?” Beatrice asked.

“Don’t get too cross,” she pleaded, eyes fluttering back up to me. She looked like a guilty child then, with her doe eyes begging for forgiveness and her messy braid hanging over her chest. “I was going to tell you anyway, I swear. I just wanted her to give me more information first.”

I stared at her.

Florence nodded as she realized I was not going to make any promises, and she slowly looked up to the ceiling. “Es is going to Umbridge. She’s going to tell her that it was you and your friends who set off those squares at the beginning of term.”

Well, of course she was. What else would Esmerelda be doing with her spare time?

I looked at Florence as she innocently looked away. Whether she was actually going to tell me or not, before Esmerelda betrayed her tonight, I wasn’t sure. Flo tended to avoid conflict to the best of her ability, so I wouldn’t be surprised if her original plan had been to keep Esmerelda’s plot a secret.

Regardless, she had told me. I had probably one more day to get in front of this, two if I were lucky. I doubted Es was going to seek Umbridge out on the weekend.

“I’m sorry,” Flo said weakly.

“Does she have anything on us?” I asked, disregarding her apology. “She must.”

Florence shrugged lightly. “I don’t think so. I’m under the impression that she’s going to say she heard you talking about it in the common room or something.”

I scoffed. She could try, but I’m fairly certain we could talk our way out of that, especially since most people were aware of the tension between her and I. We had experienced our fair share of detentions together for going at it. If that is all she had, I wasn’t too concerned, it would just look like a bitter girl trying to get me in trouble.

I could just feel that there was more.

“Could there be anything else?” Beatrice asked me. “Anything left behind?”

I shook my head, but thought about it. The squares were unidentifiable, the closet had been jinxed and we were in and out promptly. We had done nothing more than move a few things around inside of that closet. The only possible thing that could be used against us were the students who had seen us running away, and I did not see Esmerelda among them. My alibi was also secure with the Hospital Wing and Madame Pomfrey- I couldn’t see Es having more than her word.

“I think I can handle it,” I cleared my throat, trying to push away my irritancy at Flo. It wasn’t her fault; I just wish that she had told me earlier.

“Of course, you can,” Beatrice smiled, leaning back onto her forearms. “You guys are the masters of mischief. Let Esmerelda try to undermine you.”

The dormitory door flew open, and Esmerelda sauntered in, wiping her lips with her forearm. She paused, spotting our glowering faces on Florence’s bed. Without hesitation, Es plastered a smile on her face. Her red lipstick had smudged down her chin.

“Why does the air in here feel so bloody gloomy?” she laughed sarcastically, walking to her bed. She reached into her top and undid her bra, pulling it out of her sleeve.

“I wonder,” I said under my breath.

Beatrice’s eyes met mine, she stifled a laugh.

Esmerelda turned to us, frowning. “What the hell does that mean, Aurora?”

That rage she had ignited days ago started to burn within me again. I glared up at her, pressing my teeth tightly together. This wasn’t my fight. I should let Flo handle it. The problem was that as I stared at her, that cocky smile on her battered lips, I had to stomach the fact that I knew she was about to rat me out. It was the only way to beat her at her own game.

The only snitches I tolerated were golden, and she was anything but.

“You got a little something on your face Es, just there. It looks like leftovers if I am seeing it correctly,” I said bluntly, pointing to a spot on my chin to mirror where her lipstick had smeared.

Esmerelda’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it just as quick. She was rethinking about my wand in her throat, the last time that she dared to push me.

Her eyes flickered to Flo, who met her stare with a boldness that I’d never seen from her before.

“Come on,” Esmerelda laughed under her breath, dropping her arms. “There is no way you have feelings for _Zabini._ He’s a fifth year.”

“Then why’d you snog him?” Florence asked.

Esmerelda stared at her, bored, and shrugged. “I don’t know, Flo. He was there.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes and fell back onto the bed. I looked over at Flo, who was glaring at her best friend, her fingers buried in her braid again as she pulled and twisted random pieces of hair around her finger.

“He was _there?”_ She asked quietly.

Esmerelda groaned, sitting at the end of her bed. She looked at Florence with an air of annoyance. “What? Did you want to shag him or something?”

“I wanted to have fun,” Flo snapped back instantly. “I _was_ having fun. With Blaise. I turned around for one second and you had your tongue down his throat.”

“And?” Esmerelda asked, bored. “If you are so in love with him, you should have told me. I can’t read your mind. That’s not my fault.”

I rolled my eyes, looking at Bea. She craned her neck to look back at me, shaking her head in disbelief. We would never do that to each other. Hell, I wouldn’t even do that to Esmerelda. If one of them had spent all night with a guy, I would respectively leave that guy alone with no questions asked. There should be no questions _needed._

“You’re tragic,” Flo muttered under her breath. “I cannot wait until this year ends. I’ll move to France to work at the wizarding orphanage and you’ll go back to your big house with your rich parents who probably won’t even notice that you’ve returned.”

Esmerelda froze, staring at Florence.

I pressed my lips together, looking away. Well, god damn, Flo. What a way to hit her directly in the gut. I felt hopelessly uncomfortable as the silence stretched between all of us. This suddenly felt like something Beatrice and I should not be witness to.

Esermelda was stunned, not just because Flo finally talked back, but because she had verbally just ripped out her jugular. Flo aimed for the only thing that would hurt Es, something so tender that Es had surely only confided in Flo about it.

As I glanced at Flo quickly, and she stared right back as Esmerelda, she did not look even remotely regretful for what she had said. She meant it with her whole heart.

Esmerlda pushed herself off of her bed and ripped the covers off of it. She tore one of the pillows up, into her arms, and stormed out of the room with her things, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bea and I slowly looked at Florence, who was glowering at her hands. Her façade of being proud of what she had just done had disappeared as soon as that door had slammed shut.

“Can you hug me now?” she whispered. “I think I’m going to cry.”


	18. 18. The Undeniable Fact

I waited outside the Gryffindor common room the next morning, rather impatiently if I’m being honest. I had hardly slept the night before, left lying away in a drunken paralysis. My brain was absolutely scrambled. I could not stop thinking about Draco and I, how close we had been, the scent of his skin as it touched mine. It had left me in shivers, staring at the ceiling.

There was also the Quail issue.

I laid on my back on the bench beside the Fat Lady. I was bundled in my faux fur jacket and jeans, my ears covered by a green beanie to protect me on the chilly walk. I used my wand to keep a scrap piece of paper I had found floating above my head, just to stay awake. My head was pounding, the hangover from the Firewhiskey had come in like a freight train around seven AM.

Thankfully, it was a Saturday, which meant we were heading to Hogsmeade. It also meant that the twins and Lee would be awake at a decent hour, and out of their common room sooner rather than later.

My eyes were heavy, watching the paper bob up and down as I lost concentration.

The Fat Lady swung open suddenly and the Gryffindor students started to shuffle out.

I sat up expectantly.

“Hi Aylia,” Hermione smiled as she stepped out into the corridor. She pulled her hat over her ears, her bushy hair protruding from the sides of it. “Heading to Hogsmeade today?”

I nodded letting the paper ball drift down to my hand. “Just waiting on the guys.”

She smiled, looking to Ron and Harry beside her. “You can walk with us, if you’d like.”

“Thanks Hermione. I’m fine waiting- honestly, you guys go on,” I waved them off. They nodded, Ron stifling a roar of a yawn. I watched as they continued on their way in their tight little group of three.

I was still looking after them as Angelina walked out of the common room with a few friends by her side. She was in a puffy red coat and white hat, which _really_ looked good on her. She slowed, glancing down at me sitting on the bench, an unwanted outsider.

I tried not to let the fact that she looked me up and down as though she was sizing me up infuriate me too much.

I clenched the paper in my hand tightly, feeling it crumble under the pressure. I had been expecting the group of them to carry on, but they seemed to linger outside of the door like they were waiting on someone too.

Angelina sighed, glancing to me. “They’ll be out in a minute. Lee just forgot his wand.”

I stared up at her, but she had already turned away to talk quietly to Alicia. It was evident that our distaste for each other was still very much a mutual thing. I crushed the paper completely then, wanting to fall back on the bench in defeat. Bloody hell, they were coming with us again. _She_ was coming with us.

Fred came out of the portrait first, smiling at Angelina, and then me. I must have looked miserable, but I tried to smile back like a good mate, since we had decided that we weren’t going to argue again. I wished I had asked for Angelina’s absence to be a part of the deal.

“Oi, our little traitor” George greeted me as he entered the hallway next, he smiled from ear to ear, tugging his hat onto his head. “How was your double-crossing house party last night?”

Fred glanced over at me, also interested in the Slytherin dungeon party that they had boycotted indefinitely. My mind flashed with dark, green-lit images of Draco and I spinning around the common room, of our faces were mere inches away from each other, and of his hand travelling up my back.

I swallowed, meeting their expecting eyes. Fred raised an eyebrow.

Lee joined us then, wand in hand, a big and goofy grin plastered on his lips. The large group of us started toward Hogsmeade in an unfamiliar clump. It felt crowded, like there was just one too many impeding on our even number of four.

Thankfully, Fred hung back enough that I didn’t have to endure watching him with Angelina again. A reenactment of that first Hogsmeade trip mixed with my nauseating hangover would surely make me sick.

I shamelessly pushed down my drunken thoughts from last night, the ones centered around Fred. I had to figure out how to recover from what happened with Draco. I couldn’t simultaneously fixate on what my heart had yearned for so desperately in that moment. I’d suffocate on those feelings if I had to.

“The party was quite rowdy if I’m honest,” I answered George, once he asked for a second time.

Fred glanced at me over his shoulder. “I guess they have to make up for all of the wins they can grasp on the nights that they aren’t playing us.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, it was _just_ a win against Hufflepuff.”

“Were you well behaved?” Lee joked, nudging me rather roughly.

I swatted his bony elbow away.

_Definitely not._

_“_ I got pissed, if that’s what you’re asking,” I grumbled. “I got quite the headache today.”

George placed his hand to my forehead, as though I was about to perish, and faked a worried expression as he shook out his hand.

“Freddie, did you hear that- about Hannah?” Angelia looked back, smiling broadly at him. She waved him over to come and listen.

I tried to keep a neutral face as he jogged to them to hear the conversation the rest of us had deliberately been excluded from. I kept my eyes ahead, refusing to look at George because I knew that he was watching me carefully- hoping that this similar day was not going to start another war.

“We have to talk, the four of us, once we get to The Three Broomsticks,” I said, lowering my voice.

George and Lee both glanced at me curiously, sensing that there was a level of importance to this conversation. I will admit, I was laying it on a little thick in order to ensure that we _did_ all sit together. I locked eyes on Fred as he burst out laughing at something Alicia was saying.

“About what?” George asked, tugging his hat down further on his ears. “How to know when you have a drinking problem?”

I shoved him roughly, using more of my force than I had intended to. George was caught off guard, and he fell backward and tripped over his footing, nearly falling completely to the ground and onto his arse.

“Shit,” I laughed, wide-eyed as his stunned glare locked onto me in shock.

Lee and I rushed forward in a sprint, putting as much distance between George and ourselves as possible. We rushed toward the rest of our group, checking over our shoulders every chance we got. We were both consumed by fits of laughter, knowing that George was coming for revenge on the pair of us. Poor Lee was guilty by association.

George stormed forward. He caught up quickly with those lanky, long legs, and tackled us both at the waists with little force.

“Stop!” I screeched, shoving down on his head. His hat started slipping off, blocking his vision. I let out a scream as he slumped downward, nearly taking me with him.

‘George, I’ll piss on you,” Lee warned, locking his legs in an attempt to stop George’s force. “I’ve been holding it since I woke up, don’t test me.”

When we got to The Three Broomsticks, Fred had pulled two tables together in the center of the pub. It was not as great as a booth, there was far less privacy, but I guess since we had so many people in tow today, it would have to do. I ensured that we were all at one end of the tables so that I could spill the information I had.

George got the first round. I begged him to avoid Firewhiskey, so I was relieved when he came back with Butterbeer for the four of us. Lee had quickly filled Fred in as we awaited our drinks, and now all three of them were invested in my news.

I thought about the last story I had to tell them, in this very pub. That one hadn’t gone over quite well.

“So, Florence and Esmerelda had a little spat last night,” I told them quietly. I didn’t know if Esmerelda or any of her friends were here, I regretfully hadn’t looked. I couldn’t risk anyone overhearing me and spilling the beans to her before the four of us got ahead of this.

“Over what?” Lee asked quickly.

I glanced at him. “Blaise.”

“Ew,” George and Fred said in unison, their faces still neutral.

I rolled my eyes, holding out my hands in front of me. “That’s not important. Florence told me something because she was angry. Esmerelda is planning on going to Umbridge and saying that the Scream Squares were our doing.”

The three of them stared at me and then slowly looked at each other. Their expressions told me what I needed to know. They matched my thoughts on the circumstances. This coupe was going to heed the same results as Umbridge’s initial attempt to blame us. There was no way that Esmerelda had managed to get some form of actual evidence against us which Umbridge had missed.

“What does she know?” Fred asked, taking a big gulp of his drink.

“As far as I know, nothing,” I admitted, and they all nodded in relief.

I looked to all of them individually, and their eyes were locked on to me as though awaiting further instruction. They knew that I had not come to this table without a brain full of ideas on how to correct this. Merlin, if they only paid this much attention in class.

“I think we have to act before she does.” 

Fred and George leaned into each other in front of me, shoulder to shoulder. They both raised their eyebrows as their smiles widened in pleasant anticipation.

“And what do you have in mind, darling?” Fred asked.

“I think we should revert the suspicion. Let’s make it look like it was Es instead,” I said quietly.

Lee brightened with excitement beside me.

“We have some leftover squares,” George said, glancing over at his twin for confirmation.

Fred nodded. “We can make sure she’s caught red-handed.”

“I have an idea, if you two are up for it,” I said softly, watching their eyes begin to twinkle with the promise of a challenge.

“Up to it?” Fred asked, looking at his twin.

“You humor us,” George finished.

“Could we modify the scream squares to be set off of with a cue, rather than a timer? We can figure out a plan to have them go off at a convenient time. Ideally, where a professor will hear it. We can leave a few of them in her things in her dorm for extra security.”

“That should be something we can handle,” George nodded.

“Shame that we’re going to be giving her credit for something we can sell for loads,” Fred grumbled.

“If she hasn’t gone to Umbridge yet that might be suspicious,” Lee said quietly beside me. “Maybe we should let her do it and _then_ plant them.”

“Good point,” I sighed, looking to him. His eyes were fixated on his drink, deep in concentration. “And we can’t be certain when she will go to her.”

“Do you think Flo would tell you if you asked?”

“I don’t know if Es will even tell her at this point, they didn’t seem to be getting along,” I leaned back, deflating in my chair a bit. The most foolproof thing I had come up with suddenly seemed like a lot less of a sturdy idea.

Fred and George’s eyes suddenly both shot above my head. Their gaze locked on something just behind Lee and I, something in the bar. Somehow, the both of us had the same sense to not turn and look. We stared, in concerned silence, as the twins’ eyes followed their target in perfect synchronization.

Bloody hell, was Umbridge standing behind me in a fluffy pink jacket and holding a quill- jotting down everything I had just said?

“Don’t look now,” Fred muttered under his breath, his eyes still stuck on whatever was behind us.

“But here comes the answer,” George finished.

Both of their eyes fluttered to me as Florence appeared beside us, placing her hands down on the end of the table. The entire table, including Angelina and her friends, turned to look at the blonde, braided girl. Her doll-like beauty often had that impact on people.

She stared at Angelina and her friends, before slowly kneeling down to our level, ensuring only the four of us could hear what she was going to say. I noted the coldness in her eyes, which I had rarely ever seen, as her eyes skimmed over Angelina.

She glanced at Lee, smiling lightly, before her eyes found me.

“Remember what I told you last night?” she asked.

All four of us nodded. If she noticed that I had shared with the group, she hadn’t seemed surprised.

“Blaise and I went to breakfast together. He mentioned how Es told him that she has one of the squares,” she said softly, her hands trailing down the length of the table.

Lee and I snapped to look at twins, who just shrugged like that was bound to happen, and was not much of a big deal. It was not like the squares had been set to combust or anything. Umbridge probably had kept some of her own to investigate.

“Did he see it?” I asked.

Florence nodded slowly, looking to the twins. “He said it has both of your initials carved into it: F and G, W. She told him that it was a prototype she found in Aylia’s trunk.”

I shut my eyes, letting out a breath. My headache returned, pulsing against my skull. That conniving, lying, scum of a witch. So, this was her plan, plain and simple. She took her time getting her hands on a Scream Square and carved Fred and George’s initials onto it. Surely, Umbridge would know that the twins weren’t that stupid. If she chose to ignore that, Dumbledore certainly would.

“Rubbish,” the twins said in unison.

Florence reached up to tug her braid. “I think she may have found one of your papers when she was helping Snape after Potions. She’s known to use a mimicking charm; it will look identical. She did the same thing to that Lavender Brown girl after she snogged Theo.”

“I reckon I should just hex her and get it over with,” I murmured, putting my chin on the heel of my hand.

“We can still get around it,” Fred encouraged gently, wrapping his hands around his mug. He flashed me a quick, unbothered smile.

“Then you can hex her,” George said, winking as he brought his Butterbeer to his lips.

“Did she say when she’d be doing this?” Lee asked, and I realized his eyes had barely moved from Florence’s face.

Flo looked to him too, blue eyes taking him in with an innocent sweetness. “No, love. Sorry. I reckon she’ll do it sooner rather than later, though.”

“Thanks Flo,” I smiled at her, though pained. Despite her fight with Esmerelda, ratting on her best friend had to be quite difficult for her. 

She winked at me, pushing herself back up. “Of course. See you guys.”

As she walked away, I risked a peek behind me to the back of the bar. She was only here with Blaise, who was sitting hunched over like he was feeling incredibly ill. They were tucked away in the back, a booth to themselves, but they just looked like two friends here for some food.

A flash of _that_ memory of Draco’s lips mere inches from mine pulsed through my head again for only an instant. I could hear the sounds of his breath near my ear, and the strange sound of his unheard laughter while he spun me around the common room. I refrained from pressing my eyes together tightly to rid myself of it. Blimey, after today I could never drink again.

“Our bloody initials?” Fred scoffed, looking to his twin in utter disgust.

George shook his head, downing the rest of his Butterbeer. He wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm. “Insulting.”

“I’ll get the next round,” said Lee, finishing the rest of his own in two large gulps.

As Lee went the bar to place the order for the following round, the twins and I huddled even closer. Suddenly irritated that I hadn’t hexed Esmerelda that day in the common room, I also chugged the rest of my Butterbeer with an almost greedy ease. Seven years and she hadn’t learned her lesson.

We headed to the shops after our rounds, tipsy and warmed by the alcohol we had shared. My headache had surpassed, hair of the dog I presume. I was now walking around Hogsmeade with the my anger toward my housemate pushed aside. I was living in my own little blissful bubble with my friends for the moment. It was even easy to ignore Angelina.

We walked into Zonko’s, and I felt myself falter on wobbly legs at the door. Fred laughed at my expense, a cute laugh, and laced his arm through mine to guide me inside. He was not very steady on his feet himself. It was the blind leading the blind.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I watched him, grateful that these little gestures of our friendship had come back with ease. It was nice to have my security blanket back.

Fred browsed the shop with me in tow. I was absentmindedly looking at the stock, not really taking anything in. I never shopped here unless with the twins. By the looks of it, Fred was clearly on the hunt for something specific.

The petty, drunk me, glanced behind us to the girls we had brought along today. Angelina was either uninterested in us, or trying her best to be, as she poked through the shelves with Alicia. Sober me would probably try to be a bit more respectful, but I felt so deprived from our weeks spent apart that I selfishly wanted Fred all to myself.

I thought about how I’d react if Angelina were doing this to me. Surely, I’d already be pointing my wand in her face.

“Freddie,” George called, and Fred and I both turned like we were conjoined twins.

George lifted up a small, cylindrical gadget. It was the color of gollyworm soil, with rectangular holes around the top of it in a tight pattern. Fred’s squinted to see it, and his face brightened once he realized what it was, that mischievous smirk growing on his lips. He nodded at his twin, who grinned back in response, immediately heading to the cashier. 

“What’s that?” I asked, feeling Fred waver on his feet as he reached up to feel the Shooting Shockers. I steadied him, gripping his arm tightly.

He laughed at himself, focusing his eyes to try and regain his composure. He looked at me with a hooded, drunken stare. “That is a gift that will help us later.”

I had no idea what that meant, but I felt that familiar exciting sensation of being involved in something much larger than me flood through my veins. There was nothing like formulating some trickery with people who meant so much to me, creating stories that we’d share for a lifetime. The giddy feeling was burning in the pits of my belly with all of the Butterbeer.

George paid for his mystery cylinder and the group of us left Zonko’s in a herd. Angelina desperately wanted to go to Honeydukes to stock up on sweets, so we slowly made our way toward the sweetshop, bundled up in coats and hats to keep warm, but our cheeks and noses were red from the drink rather than the chilly Fall weather.

“So, you think Slytherin will beat us next game?” Fred asked suddenly, smirking down at me.

I rolled my eyes, glaring up at him, but I pulled his arm tighter toward me anyhow. “Not if I’m in the stands cheering for you guys. I _am_ the Gryffindor team’s secret weapon.”

Fred choked out a laugh and he shook me gently. I had a quick flashback to last night, when Draco’s face had looked absolutely heartbroken over a similar joke. It was easy with Fred, we understood each other on a level that could not be explained.

The smile slipped from my lips as those snapshots of Draco’s lips coming toward me fluttered behind my eyelids, _again_.

We reached Honeyduke’s then, with the two of us falling behind at the back of the pack. As we waited just beside the shop door for the customer’s who were exiting to leave and allow us through, Fred muttered some joke about the Slytherin team that was crude and definitely untrue. We both burst into loud, boisterous, and drunken laughter.

“Oi,” I heard Lee groan under his breath in front of us.

I glanced beside us to the group that had just left the shop with numerous bags stuffed full of goodies. I immediately sobered as gray eyes found mine. Draco slowly passed us, flagged by Theodore, Crabbe, and Pansy. His eyes went from my face, to my hands intertwined around Fred’s arm.

I felt the need to say something, hello even, but I froze.

Draco swallowed, his face contorting into a subtle sneer, and he turned away from us. If I hadn’t known better, I’d assume we were those very same people that he had loathed for the past five years—That _I_ was that same person.

I looked to the ground, feeling a sense of unexplainable shame, like I had just been caught doing something that I shouldn’t have.

“Ugh,” Fred grumbled, starting to drag me toward the shop. “Remember when you shagged that git?”

I stifled a laugh, but I couldn’t seem to find his gentle jab even remotely funny. Typically, I would have recoiled with laughter and mocked hurt at his slightly-too-far joke, but the truth behind that joke had now changed.

The relationship between Malfoy and I had been altered last night by the way he looked at me, like I was the only woman in the room. It didn’t feel emotional, nor did it feel like a whirlwind connection that would move mountains, but it _had_ felt quite animalistic and raw.

I had _wanted_ Draco last night, in every way that I could imagine. That was no longer a joke. It was an undeniable fact.


	19. 19. The Quail of it All.

That evening, the group of us ate dinner together at the Gryffindor table. Our hangovers hit us around six PM, and we were desperate for food to coat our stomachs. It was just the four of us, devouring our chicken pot pies and bowls of soup. The small Zonko’s bag sat between us like a fifth place setting.

Fred and George laid down the new plan as we sobered, and it seemed to be the perfect solution to our growing Esmerelda problem. The gadget that George had purchased today was a Mimic Mic. Its function was to consume sounds, which you presented for recording, and the product kept them for eternity. You could not delete what was stored on it once it was taken in. There is a rebutting charm placed on it that prevented any counter jinxes- so it was quite useful, and most likely intended for blackmail.

“We take the sounds from the actual Scream Squares and put them on this,” Fred said, digging his fork into his pie, he tapped the Zonko’s bag inconspicuously with his free hand.

“You can plant it under her bed or in her trunks,” George said, looking to me.

“If Umbridge comes to ask questions and you tell her she’s framing you, she’ll go looking. She’ll find this in Quail’s possession,” Fred took a big bite of the pie, smirking at my excited interest.

“It’ll look like the origin piece, the original recordings for what we put on those squares,” George said through a mouthful of food.

Lee smirked, taking the final spoonful of his soup into his mouth. He pushed the bowl to the side, leaning forward. “Wicked.”

“Can you get this done by Monday?” I asked quietly, staring at the bright red bag that might surely give us away. I reached for it, slowly pulling it back and into George’s hands. He placed it in his lap.

“Monday?” Fred asked, breaking a piece of his crust into smaller pieces with his fork. His eyes flickered to mine, a sly smirk tugging on his lip. “We’ll have it to you by morning.”

~*~

The next day, I was late to Hagrid’s hut. I blamed it on my double-ended hangover and my haunting memories from Friday night. I had been so anxious dealing with both of those that I had finally succumbed into a deep and dreamless sleep after dinner. I had somehow managed to sleep through the night and well into the morning.

Hagrid had barely noticed; he was tending to the grounds around the hut in his fur overthrow- an article of clothing that meant he was heading into the forest today.

“Beautiful day t’day, Aylia!” Hagrid bellowed, “I’ll be gone about an hour. I reckon ‘ye can handle the fairies ‘til I’m back?”

I nodded eagerly, “Of course.”

Hagrid smiled, picking up a sack full of food that he slung around his neck. He adjusted it comfortably around his belly.

“Dumbledore told me ‘ye had a moment with Fawkes,” he stared down at me with pride. I was his little side-kick, who had spent years directly by his side, eager to learn anything and everything he had to teach me. I had just accomplished something that I had put on my bucket list in first year. Hagrid was proud.

I wondered if he felt that same impact that I did thinking about the fact that I wouldn’t be here much longer, doing all of these exciting things with him. Who knew if he’d find another version of me in a bright-eyed eleven-year-old? It hurt me to think of him tending to the creatures all year on his own.

“Ah, well.” He smiled, patting my shoulder with his large hand. “I want ‘te hear all about it when I get back.”

As Hagrid disappeared into the forest, I gathered the food from the inside of the hut. Once I had all of the berries and vegetables out on the table, I took Fang outside with some gentle encouragement. Waving my wand, I tied fang to the edge of the stairs. He could reach any part of the grounds that he wanted, it just prevented him from getting too close to the fairies.

With another quick wave, one of my blankets drifted from my bag and settled nicely in front of him. Fang sniffed the air a bit, shutting his eyes as the sun warmed his face. Grumbling, he slowly laid down atop of the blanket, nuzzling his chin into his paws.

“Good boy,” I whispered, petting his snout.

I returned to the fairies, and they were already peeking out of the trunk with a buzz of excitement. I spotted five of them ready to rush to me, not even noticing Fang lying down ten feet away. I had no doubt Fang would be more afraid of them than they were him.

“Hi!” I smiled down at them, as their little heads poked outward.

They looked happy to see me, maybe even grateful. What a stark contrast to the first time I had stood in that exact position.

I placed blueberries in my palm and held it outward, nodding with encouragement. My chest burst with pride as they began to push themselves out of their home. I didn’t have to look away anymore, I could stare directly at them and they would still come to me without much thought.

The blue haired fairy came out first, with the purple haired one shortly behind her. They both scurried around my palm, collecting the offerings that I had brought them. It felt like a tickle, or like when my cousin used to drive his toy cars over my hands. The purple haired one buzzed back to the trunk immediately.

The blue one, her arms full of fruit, floated up to the air. She hovered at my eye level, her tiny eyes scanning mine. She smiled, almost like a thank you, and rushed away, back to her home.

Brushing off my hands on my jacket, to get off the juice from the berries they had squeezed too tightly. I then packed my hand full of ripped up pieces of bread. Hagrid had prepared it, telling me that the fairies enjoyed bread and biscuits now that the weather was growing cold. They wanted things that were heavier so they could survive on it for some time, having to leave their homes less.

It made me sad knowing that I’d be spending less time with them when Winter hit.

I glanced behind me to Fang, who was now snoring on his side.

The afternoon went by with ease. My little fire fairy had come and sat on my palm, looking at me with wonder. If I could read her mind, I expected that she felt the same fascination with me as I did with her. We seemed to understand each other in an odd way, both tough nuts to crack, but grateful for the other’s patience.

I washed their trunks when they were done eating, and Hagrid returned shortly after. We had a cup of tea and biscuits inside, Fang at our feet, and I told him all about Fawkes. I didn’t tell him about the Scream Square issue, which had landed me in Dumbledore’s office in the first place, but I expected he already knew.

When I returned back to the castle, my friends were waiting for me near the dungeons. They immediately rushed to me as I approached, hands buried in the depths of their pockets.

“The deed is done,” Fred said, pulling the Mimic Mic out of his pocket. He handed it to me quickly, and I shoved it into my bag.

“What do I need to do?” I asked.

“Nothing,” George said, shaking his head. “Umbridge will find what she needs whenever she comes looking for it.”

George pulled a small baggie out of his own pocket and passed it to me in the same, sly manner as Fred had. I slid that into my bag as well- listening to its contents rattle as it sunk to the bottom.

Fred, George, and Lee all winced.

“Careful,” Fred whispered. “Those are the squares.”

My eyes widened and I froze, feeling the sudden urge to hold my bag out away from me- like the mere brush against my side would set them off.

“What? You could _warn_ me,” I seethed.

“It’s fine, but we didn’t charm them. They’re set to go off when pushed, like the other ones,” Fred reassured me, but that didn’t help much. It only meant that if they hit the right spot, this hallway could erupt in shrieks at any moment.

“We thought it’d be more realistic,” Lee said, glancing up at two Slytherin girls who were leaving the common room. “You know, by having the same charms as the originals.”

I excused myself to shower, promising to see them at dinner. Despite my hours of sleep, I still felt utterly drained. I walked into the common room, holding my bag tightly and as still as possible, like it was a ticking time bomb. This had to be placed in Esmerelda’s things as soon as the opportunity arose. While I had this on my person, I was a walking target.

A few heads turned to look at me, absent-mindedly, as I entered. I smiled as genuinely as I could muster, scanning the room for my dorm-mates. I spotted Esmerelda huddled at a table with Evie Gerstrude and Molly Rindle, her temporary replacements for Flo.

Now was as good a time as any.

I went to my dormitory quickly, but not too urgently as to draw attention. I wanted out of this area as quickly as time would allow. It was much more painful doing these acts of mischief on my own. The second I dropped the evidence I was going directly to the girls lavatory for a shower, putting distance between me and my crime.

Beatrice was sat on her bed, lying on her stomach, her face buried in a textbook.

I let out a sigh of relief.

She scanned my face, and seemed to read my mind. Sitting up quickly, she locked eyes on my bag.

“Shall I guard the door?”

I smiled at her, nodding once. “Please.”

She didn’t have to be asked twice. Without prodding, Bea stood and went to the doorway, placing her tiny body in between me and whoever would enter- a momentary distraction.

I buried my hands in my bag and wrapped my fingers around the Scream Squares and the Mimic Mic. I looked at Esmerelda’s things, all laid out neat and tidy, the most unideal set-up to try and hide something in. It had to be somewhere that she would not find it first, before Umbridge, which would ruin the plan.

I slid the squares under her chest of drawers, through the small hole in the bottom, knowing she’d never look there. I held the Mimic Mic gingerly in my palms, glancing around her stuff.

“Just put them both under the drawers!” Beatrice whispered loudly, glancing over her shoulder at me.

Sensing urgency, I dropped to my knees and slid the mic through the hole to join the Scream Squares. I jumped up and rushed to my bed, plopping on top of it, half-expecting someone to come bursting through the doors based on Bea’s nerves. 

Beatrice immediately scurried back to her position on her own bed, a small smile playing at her lips. Nobody came through after her.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, when I opened my mouth to say something. “I wouldn’t put it past Umbridge to torture me for information. Best keep it to yourself.”

We both burst into giggles at the thought.

After a brief catch up, mostly just about what Esmerelda had told Blaise, I gathered my things for my shower. Beatrice continued with her school work as I left, descending down the steps to the lavatory in the girl’s dormitory.

It was pretty full, with nearly all stalls filled with girls. I stood behind Violet Cross in the small line we had formed, patiently awaiting an empty stall. My hands fiddled with my wand in my palm, grateful for magic. It only took one swish and a used shower became squeaky clean and dry again.

Violet slid into the nearest stall as a second-year girl walked out, clutching her things. I leaned against one of the sinks, twirling my wand in my fingers, waiting for the sound of water to stop in another stall.

When it finally did, I walked to it, standing a comfortable enough distance away in order to claim my spot. As the door swung open, I walked forward, but my hands clenched my wand and I halted when Esmerelda sauntered out in a towel.

Her black fringe was pushed back, showing a large pale forehead that was usually hidden by her thick hair. She faltered only for a moment, and then burst into a wicked smirk, like she knew something that I didn’t.

“Happy Sunday, Aurora,” she said with an air of warning. “Make it count.”

She passed me without another word, leaving the lavatory for the dorms. I cleaned the stall, as she hadn’t, and locked myself inside. I couldn’t help but smile, shaking my head as the hot water burst through the pipes.

Happy Sunday to you too, Quail. You’ll never win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing. The hits just keep climbing and my heart could explode.
> 
> Also, all of you who review- much, much, MUCH love.


	20. 20. The Downfall of all Progress

Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day was shockingly uneventful. Umbridge was still planting herself directly in front of us to monitor our behavior, but she didn’t seem to have any further ammunition fueling her fire. Either Esmerelda hadn’t yet gone to her, or Umbridge didn’t believe what she had brought forward as her ‘evidence.’

It was comforting to know that there was a landmine waiting under Esmerelda’s chest of drawers if we needed it. Until then, it was tucked out of sight and out of mind.

The twins had Quidditch practice after dinner, and Lee was going to watch, which gave me time on my own. I headed to the library in the early evening to read for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Umbridge was breathing down our necks now, calling on us to answer questions in class with the expectation that we did not do the work. The twins didn’t mind staring back and proudly giving an incorrect answer. I, on the other hand, was determined to prove her wrong.

About an hour went by undistracted. I made notes in the margins with my quill, starring anything that seemed remotely relevant so that I could find it in a pinch. It wasn’t until it quietened down, when the third years seated next to me had left, that I realized a group of Slytherins were sitting a few tables down.

I glanced at them, surprised I hadn’t noticed earlier, but did a double take when I realized Draco was among them. His head was down, his eyes focused on his parchment as he wrote quickly, his silver hair slicked back and perfectly put together.

My gut instinct was to scribble down a note and send it toward him, in front of all of his friends, but I doubted it would go over well. What would I even write, ‘ _is it weird we almost kissed each other?’_ It just felt wrong to keep seeing each other in passing without acknowledging what had happened between us.

Surely, he remembered. Sometimes when I closed my eyes to go to sleep, images of his eyes, his lips, and of his hands around me danced in my memories. It was starting to haunt me like a ghost stuck in purgatory.

I stood, before I could talk myself out of it, and walked up to their group. They were fifth-years, and I was in year seven, I wasn’t going to be intimidated by approaching them simply because I was outnumbered.

Pansy’s eyes met mine first, and she tried her hardest to stomach her sneer. She wound up looking like she was passing gas instead. She was another insufferable idiot who thought her blood-status made her more superior to me.

Draco looked up as I stopped in front of the table.

“Aurora,” he muttered, looking back to his text just as quickly.

Crabbe and Blaise nodded silently, scanning my face for _any_ indication of why I had come over. Blaise and I were fine, he had never been anything but kind to me, but Crabbe and I had a more complicated relationship. As Malfoy’s goon, I had pressed my wand to his gut once or twice throughout the years.

“Malfoy, I need your help with something,” I said bluntly, adding no further context to why I wanted to request his services specifically. His brow furrowed as he looked up to me again. “I won’t ask twice.”

Sighing, he shut his book and pushed his chair back. I walked back to my spot before even checking that he was following, though I hoped he had to spare me my pride. As I sat back down at my seat, Draco’s eyes scanned over my books curiously. He frowned even deeper when he realized that it was a Dark Arts textbook in front of me, and not Potions. That was the class Draco was known to thrive in.

He took a seat across from me, falling into the chair with an air of boredom, crossing his arms in front of him.

I leaned forward on my elbows, meeting his unwavering eyes as they locked onto mine in full preparation for a fight.

“Are you angry with me?” I asked, though that was not the question I had intended to start with. I had been fully prepared to simply ask him if he wanted to talk about the party because I hadn’t been able to shake it from my mind.

He rolled his eyes, cold and bored. “What would I possibly be angry about?”

I stared at him. “I’m not sure, but I had blown you off pretty quickly after we-.”

“-We were drunk, Aurora,” he snapped, his lips tugging upward in that taunting, amused smirk. I suddenly hated the way my last name sounded coming off of his tongue. “That is all it was.”

I searched his eyes for any sign defense, trying to see if he had just put up his guard to gage my reaction, maybe he was even lying to ensure I felt similarly. That was not just us being drunk. I had been drunk in the same room as him numerous times, countless over the years, and it had never once ended like that. We had almost _kissed,_ for Merlin’s sake.

I couldn’t find any falter as he met my stare. He looked just as unbothered and ignorant as he had for most of the years I had known him. There was no sign of any growth, of any kindness, he was just Malfoy the git. He sat across from, his arms in front of him like a sheild, with every intention of striking me down.

“Draco,” I said quietly, ensuring his friends could not overhear my next words. “That’s a load of bollocks and you know it.”

He sat forward, uncrossing his arms to lean toward me on his elbows. He closed the gap between us, leaving only a few inches between our faces. Draco matched my stare, though mine had not been ill-intended, and his sinister smile grew by the second.

“Aurora, please spare me the embarrassment of telling you I am not in love with you,” he let out a bitter laugh under his breath. “If I had known male attention would turn you into a leech, I would have never shared that drink with you.”

I leaned back, my defenses now right back up as they had been at the beginning of term. Though his words had cut through me like a knife, although I really should not have given him the power to hurt me in that way, my ability to deflect and mask my pain was my super power.

I smiled at him, a smile that reached my eyes. I knew that an outsider, somebody who didn’t know me well enough to know the depths of my heart, would never be able to tell that this was a front. I was a woman of many faces.

“You’re dismissed,” I smiled, reaching for my text book again. I turned the page quickly and immediately began to read.

He cocked a brow. “Pardon me?”

I glanced up at him, pretending I was already engrossed in the reading again. “Oh, you can leave. I’m not sure who you _think_ you’re speaking to, but I surely won’t waste my time attempting to entertain a child.”

“A child?” he asked in disbelief.

“Draco,” I said sternly, my eyes burning into his now. “Go.”

Draco blinked, surprised, but he seemed to recognize the look on my face. I was a taunted and tempted snake, ready to strike back at any given moment.

Draco hesitated for a moment, but mustered up enough arrogance to put that condescending smirk right back on his face. Shooting a look to his friends, like I was utterly mental and bothersome, he kicked out his chair and stood, slowly sauntering back over to his group.

I glared at his chair, thrown to the middle of the aisle and forgotten about like a child’s toy. I was tempted to scream at him from across the library, to show him that he was doing nothing but proving my point. He was a weak and spineless little boy, raised with poor values and no manners. Definitely a Malfoy.

“Accio,” I flicked my wand at the chair, sending it crashing back into place. It smashed against the table with such force that my Quill toppled out of its hold.

I could feel Draco and his table’s eyes glued to me, obviously quite amused by my theatrics. I looked back to my reading, refusing to acknowledge that I felt their stares. It was now a stand-off and I refused to lose. I was not going to give them another minute of a show, and I was surely not going to leave the library now. Despite my inability to focus, leaving would look like he had affected me like he intended to. Even if they stayed here all night, I would stay here all night and a day more.

The library was dimly lit by the time they got up to leave. I did not glance up as they passed, though I felt Draco’s eyes on me. I grounded myself in my renewed hatred for him. It sprouted quickly, growing braches and flowers full of toxins.

I could not quite explain my anger, because I had only just started looking at Malfoy like a decent human being. It’s not like I was in love with him, like he had suggested. My heart had told me what it wanted as Draco’s fingers had skimmed my back, and it was not Draco Malfoy. Sure, I had wanted him solely in a physical way, ready to fill the hurt caused by my best friend not wanting me back, but there were no feelings involved between Malfoy and I. 

So why did this sting like rejection? Why did it sting like broken trust _?_

I headed back to the dungeons as curfew approached. I held my textbook to my chest, using it as my own suit of armor as I pushed the common room door open with my shoulder. I was torn between wanting to throw and break things, and wanting to cry at my humiliation. It felt similar to that ick Fred had caused when his lips had neared Angelina’s ear.

I stormed into the common room, heading directly to the dorms. I was ready to jump in bed and glower until the sun rose and I was forced to start my day. Thankfully, the common room was dark and empty- with everyone retreating to bed already.

I had just reached the couch when I saw movement out of the corner of my eyes. Someone stepped forward from the shadows by the boy’s dormitory.

I glanced to the side, my hand twitching over my wand in the pocket of my robes. I turned, meeting Draco’s stare. So now he was lying in wait for me? Had he wanted to check if he had been able to make me cry like some sick, sadistic twat?

Whatever his motives were, I was done wasting time feigning kindness toward Draco Malfoy. His identity crisis was now, and would forever be, his own problem.

“Aylia,” he said as he took another step toward me, his voice deep and cautious.

I kept walking toward the dorms, not hesitating for a moment to give him any attention. He had already taken too much of that.

“I’d rather drown myself in the Lake than speak to you,” I admitted, storming toward the girl’s dormitory. I threw open the door and pushed it shut behind me.


	21. 21. The War of the Worlds

Draco and I avoided each other for the remainder of the week. My anger had passed the more time I spent with my friends. Surrounding myself with their intoxicating personalities and their thirst for life had forced me to feel the same happiness that they exuded.

My momentary rage of how Draco had treated me was a blip in my life, just like our short-lived friendship. I doubted I’d even remember it in ten years. It was insignificant and unremarkable, and it would surely be overshined by these small moments with Fred, George, and Lee. It’s interesting that just sharing a laugh, fighting over licorice wands, and racing to finish our drinks at the pub were moments more powerful than any other.

Malfoy was Malfoy, and that would forever be a constant. You can’t change someone’s heart, and you can’t fight how they were raised. If he wanted to be cruel, so be it, but I wasn’t going to allow it to be at my expense.

I sat with Beatrice and Flo to watch the Slytherin and Gryffindor game that Friday. Esmerelda had come too, sporting a face full of Slytherin face-paint with her new friends flanking her sides. She methodically avoided us to sit with anyone but us, completely ignoring Flo.

I was unapologetically rooting for Gryffindor this game. The only thing that could make me any happier was for my friends, and the rival team, to wipe the pitch with Draco’s robes. I could tell by the way Beatrice tensed in certain moments, or how she clapped inconspicuously when Gryffindor scored a point, that she was leaning toward wanting a Gryffindor win, too. That may have been the result of me telling her what Draco had said to me in the library.

Despite being openly excited for my friends when they did well, and applauding along with the Gryffindor stands, I was a bit more composed while I sat with my Slytherin house mates. I didn’t want to completely ruin the game for them, and I knew how deep these house rivalries went. Flo, on the other hand, was very clearly rooting for Slytherin and only Slytherin.

The animosity between the teams was clear from the push off. The Beaters on either side were making hard hits, and aiming for absolute destruction. Both Harry and Draco seemed in their element, with Harry often hovering over different spots and carefully scanning for the Snitch, and Draco following his every move with a tactical eye and ability to distract.

Fred and George were out for blood. They sent their Bludgers directly into the chests and backs of the other team anytime a Chaser approached their Keeper, even when they hadn’t even made a move with their Quaffle. They were on their game today, rarely missing any important action long enough for Slytherin to get passed them.

I could envision their smirks while they zoomed passed each other after a hit, even from this far away, that cocky acknowledgment that they were much better than the Slytherin Beaters.

Gryffindor was up by quite a bit, and the Slytherin team was growing angrier with every point. Their own Beaters started moving in with quick, and possibly even illegal, attempts at head shots and quick yanks on their opponents’ clothes. They were especially targeting Harry, desperately trying to get him off of his broom. The crowds were growing mad. Despite the lead, it was still close enough that Draco could still manage a win by catching the Snitch.

Harry ducked suddenly, darting forward toward the Slytherin hoops. The Gryffindor stands gasped audibly, and I instinctively brought my hands to my mouth in anticipation of a win. He _had_ to have spotted it.

Malfoy, who was at the other end of the pitch, hadn’t seemed to notice. I watched him carefully, wondering why he wasn’t already soaring after Potter. He knew better than to take his eye off of him for too long. Instead, Draco was hovering above, his eyes locked on something else below him as he made small, slow circles in the sky- had _he_ spotted it?

The twins barreled forward, noting Harry’s quick change in movement and immediately rushing to protect him. They flocked the Slytherin Beaters with intent to strike before they struck Harry instead. Flipping his bat in his hand, George pulled back his arm and aimed for Bole.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Malfoy dipped down out of the sky and finally rejoined the game. It looked as though he was going to follow Harry, perhaps he had finally caught glimpse of the Snitch himself, but he quickly went off route and thrust his body into Fred. Fred, who had been caught off guard, swung to the left and nearly lost control of his broom. Due to his skill and power in his position, he managed to keep a hold of his broom and steady himself quickly- but George had noticed Draco’s move and had stalled as he saw the hit.

His face fell as his glared at the opposing Seeker.

The Slytherin stands erupted in confused murmurs. I glared ahead, my eyes locked on Malfoy and Fred as they hovered in place for a second, staring at each other. I couldn’t see their faces, but I assumed Draco looked rather smug as he met Fred’s confused expression. It only took a brief moment before Fred was barreling forward toward the Seeker, but George had wound his bat back without second thought, and he smacked the Bludger toward Malfoy with force.

Malfoy had already started to speed away from Fred on his broom, attempting to reconvene his task as a Seeker, but even his quick jolt upward was not enough for him to escape George’s aim. The Bludger connected with Draco’s shoulder with heavy impact.

The Slytherin crowd screamed in outrage, beginning to heckle George for deliberatelty hitting their Seeker with such fury. Draco lost control of his broom and the Bludger passed over his body, sending him soaring into the announcer’s pitch, nearly landing amongst Lee and the professors. He hit the side of the building with impact and fell into the stands.

Lee’s voice erupted through the stadium, “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET, YOU-.”

A high pitch ring cut him off.

Fred and George were already back in the game, now fueled with a new rage and desire to win. I stared over to where Draco was standing, dusting himself off, a slump in his shoulders. My anger toward him was returning quickly. There was no reason for him, a Seeker, to take a direct dive at the Gryffindor Beater- especially when Potter seemed to have spotted the Snitch.

“HARRY POTTER HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH,” Lee’s voice returned with a shriek of excitement. I could picture him jumping up and down in the booth. “GRYFFINDOR WINS!”

The Gryffindor crowd erupted in cheers and the Slytherin stands into cries of protest. The teams gradually made their way down to the grass, jumping off of their brooms. The Gryffindor team congratulated each other high fives, and quick hugs, the animosity being left up in the air.

Malfoy re-joined the pitch, storming forward toward his team. He walked past the Gryffindor team with his eyes locked ahead, and as Fred and George goofed off with each other, Draco shouldered Fred roughly from behind.

I jumped up, Beatrice following suit, and stared down at them.

He was shorter, thinner, and had much less of a chance at winning this fight he was picking. As Fred turned around to grab Draco by the collar of his shirt, thrusting his fist backward before anyone could intercept, Draco looked like a boy in comparison. Fred punched Draco, hard, directly in the nose.

Draco crumpled to the ground.

The Slytherin team rushed forward, and George had already swung in retaliation as their opponents reached for his brother. George punched Flint, who stumbled back and then dove forward, sending them both to the ground as they each threw fists at one another. Fred was now taking on both Bole and Derrick, while both teams began to jump into the fight.

“Weasley with the punch to the rat bastard, Malfoy himself!” Lee’s voice screamed. “Flint goes for revenge but Weasley gets him right in the kisser!”

“-Enough!” A voice was caught through Lee’s speech, and that high pitch ringing broke through the stadium again.

I was running before I realized what I was doing. I left Beatrice and Flo, who were staring at the fight with their jaws on the floor. I rushed down the stands, though I knew the twins were fine, but my anger was palpable. Malfoy seemed to always start everything and could never finish it. Malfoy was the root of this mess, picking a fight for what? If he only focused on what he was _supposed_ to be doing, perhaps he’d win a match.

By the time I reached the field, all of the players had been torn apart and were being sent to the showers. Madam Hooch stood in between them, her eyes watching both teams carefully. It took everything in me not to grab Draco before he went in, even though he hadn’t seen me standing there as he cradled his broken nose, and give him an extra punch for good measure.

I walked to the twins as they approached the shower doors behind their team.

I raised an eyebrow. “Did that feel good?”

Fred smirked, running a hand over his bruising lip. “You have no idea.”

George grinned, dragging his sleeve over the blood under his nose. Flint walked by, his face swollen and bloodied, looking much worse than the twins combined. Good riddance. I hope they all looked like Flint for how poor of a game they had played.

“What in the hell was that about?” I stared at them. I wanted to reach for Fred as he winced, his hands grazing his bruising cheekbone. There was no way I’d baby them, even though my instinct was suddenly to run my fingers over the source of his pain. They could handle their own.

Fred glanced at George. “Slimy git came out of nowhere.”

“He’s lucky we weren’t expecting it,” George added.

Fred’s eyes slid to mine. “He came back for more after we won. He’s lucky I didn’t beat the brains out of his skull, if I’m honest.”

“You bloody _legends!”_ Lee leaped out from behind me, jumping up at Fred and George. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders and pulled them together, their heads nearly smashing together.

The twins laughed under their breath as Lee backed away.

Lee glanced at me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Isn’t it refreshing to be in the presence of some well-earned Slytherin tears?”

I shoved him gently. “Don’t get too excited, you’ll never get any from me.”

“Yours wouldn’t count anyway,” Lee smiled, winking at me.

“Hm, hm,” a very quiet, yet outrageously bothersome throat clearing sounded from behind us.

Lee and I turned, looking toward the body who was guarding Gryffindor showers. Slowly, Lee’s arm dropped from my shoulder as Umbridge stared at the pair of us, buried in a puffy pink jacket. She was wearing pink earmuffs, making her look like a wretched pygmy puff.

Her eyes disregarded Lee and I, staring only at the twins.

“Fred and George Weasley, I am disgusted by your behavior,” she scolded, yet managed to do so in a _very_ cheery voice. “This is one event that you cannot escape punishment for. You will have detention with me all weekend, from noon to four PM. All further punishments will be determined by Monday.”

“Splendid,” Fred and George grumbled in unison, glaring at the professor.

Umbridge smiled, her eyes darting to Lee and I. “You two should be heading back to the castle now.”

“We should?” I asked, glancing at Lee curiously, raising my eyebrows in shock.

Lee pretended to think. “I’m not sure that was our plan…”

“Surely it wasn’t,” I nodded, looking back to Umbridge with a tight smile. “We’re fine, thank you.”

Umbridge’s eyes darkened. “That was an order, Ms. Aurora.”

“From who?” I asked, still feigning ignorance.

I heard Fred and George intake a sharp breath, trying not to laugh behind us.

“I beg your pardon?” Umbridge asked, taking a bold step toward me. I was amped up by my anger toward Malfoy, and my irritancy that she had just given my friends detention for something they did not start.

Try me, Toad Woman.

I looked at Lee again, who raised his eyebrows at me. “Did I stutter, Lee? Or is there a muting charm on me?”

Lee shrugged and started mouthing words, and waving his arms around, no sound escaping his lips. As he acted like he had been muted as well, Fred and George could not contain their laughter.

I nodded along with Lee, like I could understand what he was saying completely.

“Mr. Jordan, Ms. Aurora,” Umbridge said loudly, and we both stopped and turned to her. “You will join Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley in detention this weekend.”

I winked at her, sliding my arm through Lee’s. We smiled at her with mock-adoration, as though that was our intention all along. We travel as a pack, Umbridge, this was not much of a punishment.

“Let’s head back up to the castle, yeah?” I said to Lee, who nodded. “It’s a little bitter out here anyhow.”


	22. 22. The Quidditch Shaped Punishment

Lee and I were in stiches as we entered the Gryffindor common room together. We could not stop laughing at Umbridge’s startled expression while we put on a full, muted performance in front of her. There was nothing better than someone who had been expecting to entice fear when they realized that they had gravely missed the mark. We were surely pushing her already very low expectations of us.

The common room was pretty lively after that match. It would have probably been a regular night if that fight hadn’t happened between the teams, but now the students were amped up on adrenaline and had something exciting to talk about it.

When Fred and George had arrived, they plopped themselves down on the couch next to Lee and I. They had a few scratches and bruises, but nothing too severe. They wore them well, mostly because the other team looked much, much worse.

It was immediately evident as they sat down that they were furious.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Fred let out a breath, looking to me as though trying to stomach his irritancy. “Umbridge is up to something. I think she’s going to suspend us for a few games.”

“What?” Lee snapped, sitting forward abruptly. “She can’t do that!”

“Angelina just told us that she’s been recruited to come back,” George said, his eyes flickering to mine. “She was taking first term off to get her marks back up, her parents’ orders, but she’s being forced to return as Captain earlier than expected.”

“So?” I asked, though I could see how that might be concerning. It meant that Angelina was filling someone else’s position. I just didn’t understand how it could be the twins, as they were Beaters and she was Chaser. “That can mean anything.”

Fred shook his head, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “No, Alicia was told by McGonagall that she and Angelina were going to need to review who tried out this earlier this year. She didn’t specify exactly, but she mentioned calling on Marriot- who tried for Beater in the Fall.”

My heart sank. The twins would be lost without Quidditch. If they were actually suspended for a few games, all because of Malfoy, this war between us and Draco was going to get ugly very fast. I wouldn’t even have to tell them what he had said to me for them to find the motivation to destroy him. This was going to be the start of something big.

“Well, if that’s true, we’ll do something about it,” I said with a façade of confidence. I nodded at them assuredly. I didn’t have a plan yet, but we could figure one out if need be. Umbridge was clearly easy to crack, it would not be too difficult to maneuver.

Lee nodded enthusiastically beside me, clasping George on the shoulder. I could already hear Lee’s sarcastic comments about these suspensions bellowing out over the Quidditch pitch during the next game. Maybe he’d be the next to get suspended.

Fred’s eyes slid to me, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah?”

I smiled, reaching forward to mock a punch to his bruised face. I did it gently, and he shut his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch, that smile growing over his disgruntled face.

“Yeah,” I said softly.

“At least Johnson will be back,” George sighed. “If we’re gone, the team will need her.”

Yeah, they would. Unfortunately, Angelina was an undisputable talent. She was probably the only player who could choose to leave and still have a spot open for her when she was ready to come back. McGonagall would move mountains to have her on the pitch. She could likely go professional, if that’s what she wanted. It was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing she was good at something Fred loved so dearly, while I was utterly miserable at it.

“You’ll have to let us know if Malfoy gets suspended too,” Fred said.

“If you are, he surely will be,” I said with certainty. “Everyone could see that he started it. He was egging you on in the air.”

As the twins slowly came out of their slump, probably due to the alcohol that had appeared before us shortly after, it became easier to forget about the fight for the moment. When they were happy, I allowed myself to be happy, though when I looked at them and saw their bruises and bumps, I did feel that protective rage that burned inside of me.

It all came down to Malfoy.

I drank slowly, not wanting another repeat of the Slytherin party. I remembered exactly how my feelings erupted when they were watered with Firewhiskey, and I couldn’t stomach confessing to Fred that I was beginning to look at him and not see him just as a best friend anymore. A rejection from Fred would destroy me.

I watched as Fred, George, and Lee quickly got drunk. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie joined us shortly after, sitting across from us along the table, their own pints of alcohol in front of them half-drunk.

It always felt a bit uncomfortable being the only Slytherin here, but more-so when I knew I was surrounded by girls who didn’t particularly care for me. Give me Hermione, Ginny, _any_ other girl in the Gryffindor house and I’d be absolutely fine, but not these three. They were Angelina’s friends, not mine, and that distinction had been made _very_ clear over the years.

“Do you play Quidditch?” Katie had asked me, realizing I hadn’t spoken a word since they started dissecting what may be happening behind the scenes with their team.

Fred and George both looked at me, smiling broadly, daring me to answer with anything but the truth.

“No,” I said simply, shaking my head. “Not for a lack of effort. I’m just terrible at it.”

Katie smiled gently, “More time to focus on school though.”

I nodded, meeting her eyes. She smiled again, turning back to the girls. She was being nice and I appreciated it. Despite being loyal to Angelina, she had tried to include me.

Points for Katie.

Fred’s hand reached down to squeeze my leg, I looked up at him, his eyes were hazy. “You’re not _awful._ You’re getting better.”

I shot him a warning look. “Shove off.”

He winked, leaning back to wrap a lazy arm around my shoulders. “You can fly circles around Ron, it’s just the other stuff that makes you suck.”

“Well thank you for the words of encouragement Freddie,” I glared, leaning into him a bit. “But I’ll stick to cheering you on.”

His smile faltered a bit, probably thinking about the fact that there was a chance he’d be missing more than a few games in his final year. I didn’t know how to make this better. I couldn’t, really, not until I had more information.

The truth was, if they were suspended and it was due to Malfoy’s stupidity- I was not going to be able to bite my tongue. He would be taking away the one thing the twins liked about being at school, and that was the lowest possible blow he could make. There hadn’t been a point to his attacks on the pitch. Fred had not provoked him; he had barely spoken a word to him all year. This was all down to Draco being an insufferable idiot.

As the music got louder, and the Gryffindor room turned into a small party, the boys were wasted. The girls had disappeared, but I hadn’t remembered watching them go, and Ron, Harry, Ginny and Dean had joined us on the couches.

Eventually, George and Lee had stood and began to dance, trying to encourage Ginny to join. Ginny, who seemed to be looking to Harry quite a lot, shook her head and continued their group chatter by the fire.

I followed Fred to join George and Lee. We started to dance, Fred moving his bum in a suggestive way. I couldn’t stop laughing as he managed to dance with impeccable rhythm, his body moving with the music.

I threw it back, dropping low to the ground and swirling my hips to the music. I knew about two moves, and I still was no good at them.

Fred grinned at me, shooting the finger guns in my direction, shimmying toward me to grab my hands with his. He pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders gently, before spinning me away again.

I thought about dancing with Draco, how intimate and risky it had felt. It wasn’t like that with Fred. With him, it was fun and light, and I didn’t overthink a single thing. Something in me wondered if I should be searching for someone who made me feel the way Draco had, dangerous and on edge, and if this feeling that Fred evoked in me was just friendship.

All I knew is that I looked at him and felt warm, like staring directly at a fall sunset. I felt that feeling in my gut that told me he was supposed to be here. It erupted through me with so much certainty that I couldn’t even think about a point in my life where he wouldn’t be by my side. He was meant for me, in one way or another, and I was meant for him.

I rushed back to my common room well after curfew. I didn’t bother asking for the map, I was already in trouble. If I got caught sneaking around, a day or two more of detention wouldn’t hurt me too much at this point. In all honesty, disobeying Umbridge’s orders time and time again was a reward in itself.

The castle was a ghost town. I did not see a single living soul as I tip toed back to the dungeons with a buzz on. I caught a glimpse of Peeves as I slid past the second corridor, grateful he hadn't seen me sneak past. I slid through the common room doors silently. As I bounced into the room, I was blissfully choosing to ignore the memory that I had detention all afternoon tomorrow.

Draco was seated at the fire with Pansy and Theo. I immediately sobered, pushing my shoulders back in preparation to pass. I already had my guard up around Draco, but my best friend had just broken his nose on top of the issues we shared between us. There was no way I’d be allowed to pass them without a fight.

“Surely you were out all night scolding the Weasley boys for abusing our team, right Aurora?” Pansy asked in a sly voice.

I turned slowly, glaring at her.

Draco stared ahead at the fire, his nose swollen and his eyes blackened. He must have gone to the Hospital Wing to have his nose mended- it was no longer sitting crooked on his face.

I stared at the younger girl, ensuring she felt small under my gaze. Challenge me, Pansy, I dare you.

She curled inwardly almost instantly, breaking eye contact.

“Surely not,” I said, and I looked to Draco’s face, hoping he could feel my glare since he could not muster the courage to meet my eyes. “Next time, our team should pick a fight that they can win.”


	23. 23. The Punishment Doesn't Fit the Crime

We sat in detention the following afternoon in complete and utter silence. Umbridge hadn’t quite told us what we were going to be forced to do, she was just sitting at her desk looking over some pages of parchment. I almost asked, just once, if she was planning on ignoring us all day- but I decided against it.

Eventually, she slipped us each a piece of blank parchment and a wooden board to rest it on, atop of our knees. Without a word, she handed us each a quill that looked identical to one another- black feathers and a green tip.

I raised an eyebrow, glancing at my bag which had both parchment and a quill inside of it.

Umbridge sat back at her desk and forced a tight smile, eyes skimming over each of us individually.

“Now,” she said with a sickening sweetness, “Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, you are to write lines. Your line will be the following: ‘ _I shall obey order and refute chaos’_.”

I stifled a laugh. What an effective punishment, Umbridge, that’ll really change our behavior for the better. Lines may be tedious, but they were also worth the risk, all of our professors had realized better ways to make us suffer in detention throughout the years.

Her eyes slid to Lee and I.

“Mr. Jordan and Ms. Aurora, you are to do the same. Your line will be _‘I shall watch my words and respect authority._ ”

I glanced at Lee, who looked back at me in disbelief. He shrugged, fiddling with the quill in his fingers. This would be boring, sure, but it would be the easiest detention that we had in years.

“Until four PM?” Fred asked incredulously.

Umbridge smiled tightly, looking back to him as though she was thrilled that he had asked that specific question.

“It shouldn’t take that long. Twelve in the afternoon until four was a loose time frame I provided to you in case the message did not settle in immediately.”

We all stared at her, cautiously. Doubt started to creep in my mind. It seemed far too easy for a woman of her caliber to just make us write some lines and let us go, especially after she had clearly suspected us of the Scream Square prank, in which she was already desperate to punish us for. There had to be a catch.

“Begin,” she nodded to us, bringing her tea cup to her lips.

I dipped my quill in the provided ink and started to write my line. I had made it to the first ‘w’ in my assigned sentence when my hand erupted in a sharp, searing pain. I dropped the quill in shock, holding my hand to my chest as if to protect it.

Wincing, I looked at the twins, who had just written their second letter. They looked back at me, confused and startled, and then abruptly dropped their own quills with a seething sound of pain.

I stared down at my hand, seeing the words etched into my skin staring back at me, as though I had carved them into my flesh with a knife: “ _I shall w_ ,” in my slanted penmanship.

With wide eyes, and still clutching my hand, I looked up at Umbridge in dismay. A tiny drop of blood drifted down my hand and onto the parchment, ending my sentence before I could finish.

Umbridge’s eyes met mine, a tiny smile playing on her lips.

“Are you barking mad?” Fred erupted. He reached forward and ripped my hand from me, examining it in his own.

I could see the bloodied letters on his own hand, ‘ _I sh.’_ He looked at me with so much anger but so much tenderness, and he placed his palm on top of my hand as though he could heal it with his touch. Fred searched my eyes, waiting for some form of confirmation that I was okay.

I was still too in shock to react.

“I’m not bloody doing this,” George protested, pushing his quill away from him.

I glanced behind me at Lee, who was staring at his hand with his jaw set tight. His fingers were absent-mindedly tracing the new carving on his body. I reached for him with my spare hand, placing it gently on his forearm.

He didn’t even turn to look at me.

This would surely scar, it felt deep as it tore through our skin.

“You will do as I say,” Umbridge’s voice roared out. Her face was flushed and growing angry at our unwillingness to participate in her torture. Had she expected immediate obedience from us? “This has been approved by the Ministry of Magic. You will either complete your detention or you are expelled.”

“You can’t expel us,” Lee scoffed, finally snapping out of his trance.

“I’m afraid you are mistaken. I am under strict orders by the Minister himself to do as I see fit,” she snapped, eyes burning into Lee now. “Pick up your quills and write your line or leave Hogwarts at once.”

Fred’s eyes found mine again, his brow furrowed forward. He gently rubbed my hand between his and I searched his face for an answer. As George looked to me as well, anger spreading through his face, I realized that they were looking to _me_ for that answer. They were more than happy to drop the quills and leave without graduating, but they knew there was more on the line for me.

Could I expect them to endure this torture for me? No. Absolutely not.

“Go,” I whispered to them with a gentle nod. “It’s okay.”

Fred and George looked at each other, and then Lee. Without another word, all three of them picked up their quills in unison. Their eyes darted to Umbridge, who sat up straighter in her seat in satisfaction, and they began to write again.

I couldn’t look at their faces as I slowly picked up my own quill. I wrote that wretched sentence over and over again, wincing with each letter until the burning in my hand grew so bad that it just numbed all together. Around the fiftieth time, I was sure that I could do this all night, despite having to consistently wipe my blood off onto my robes.

After an hour and a half, with nothing but silence and the sound of Umbridge’s ticking clock and the soft meows from her tea plates, Umbridge excused us. We walked out of her office in somewhat of a daze, like beaten dogs who weren’t quite sure what they’d done wrong.

I couldn’t explain why, but I could feel tears prickling behind my eyes. That had felt horribly abusive, and I was having trouble understanding how and why it happened to us.

“Hey,” Fred mumbled, giving me a soft nudge with his elbow as we walked through the corridor. “Are you alright?”

I blinked up at him, pressing my lips together. “I’m angry.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

“Me three,” George added, examining his hand with deep curiosity.

Lee just grunted in agreement, but his teeth were clenched tightly together, and I knew he was feeling that same tormented feeling as I was.

I slowly brought my hand up to my own eyes, seeing the angled cursive spelling out: _I shall watch my words and respect authority._

Something in me hoped she had only reserved this punishment for us, her most loathed students. The thought of a tiny eleven-year-old witch or wizard, already scared and overwhelmed, being horribly mistreated like that in their first year made my stomach turn. I prayed, with all of my being, that we were the only people sporting these new, matching, tattoos.

I wished it were warm enough to go to the hill. I needed our safe space right now. I needed the cold and bitter air on my face and I needed to see the bright sky fade away to blackness. I needed to feel horribly insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That would require us getting into our outer gear, bundling up for the cold, and we just didn’t have the energy for that.

We slowly walked through the halls with a slump in our steps until we found a bench near the Gryffindor common room. I was grateful that it was quiet.

They all sat in stunned silence. I was still staring at my hand.

“How could she do that to us?” I whispered, and my voice sounded weak to my own ears. “This will be on us forever, I’m nearly positive.”

“Guaranteed,” George muttered, flexing and un-flexing his fingers.

“Dumbledore surely can’t know,” Lee said in disgust.

“I reckon she isn’t answering to Dumbledore any longer,” George replied.

“Bloody hell, what magic was used on those quills?” I said softly, staring at their bruising skin.

Fred’s eyes were locked on me, watching me carefully. I sucked in my bottom lip, my eyes drifting to his hand, with those horrible words sketched upon him like Umbridge had branded him as her own. I had just sat there and let them take it because I was feared being expelled.

I was a coward.

“Guys,” I said suddenly, and that burning was back, behind my eyes. I willed it away. I wouldn’t cry, not for her. “I- uh. I’m really sorry for making you lot stay in there.”

George and Lee frowned, looking at me oddly- like it had never even been a question. I sucked in a breath but it was shaky, one of those pre-cry breaths that gives away that a breakdown was approaching quickly.

I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my hand.

Fred stood, walking directly to me. He wound his hand around the base of my neck and pulled me to him. I shut my eyes as my face collided with his collar bone. I sucked in another deep, unsteady breath.

Cinnamon.

Firecrackers.

Freddie.

Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his middle and let out a pained sigh of relief. It was over and we had made it. They weren’t angry with me. We’d push through this like we did anything.

“Not your fault, darling,” Fred said quietly, and I felt the cold of his fingers drifting through my curls to brush the skin of my neck.

I stepped back slowly, and Fred immediately reached for my hand, holding it up in between us. He traced the letters of my scar with his finger, immediately noticing how I winced at the tenderness of it. He gently folded my hand, turning it over in his own palms so that neither of us could see the bloodied message any longer.

The weeks went by quickly after that. Snow began to fall and things began to worsen. Harry had been forced to do lines similarly to ours the very next day, and then one by one after that, the stories of more students being permanently maimed became commonplace.

The professors were on edge, McGonagall especially. I had asked her a question after class, specifically about transfiguring creates and the lasting effects, and she had caught a glimpse of my hand. Her face had fallen, a rush of red sweeping her cheeks, and she could barely focus enough to remember the answer to my question.

Hagrid was another story. I had told him immediately, as he was going to see it as soon as I reached for anything in his vicinity. He had been so angry, but so heartbreakingly _sad_ at the same time. He went to Dumbledore instantly, and he didn’t return all afternoon. We never spoke of it again, though I caught his eyes skimming my hand quite often, and I wondered if he was looking for new marks.

The snow glittered the Hogwarts grounds, piling up along with Umbridge’s absurd new rules. We were being buried in punishments, up to our necks. There was nothing we could do or say to stay afloat. The twins were banned from Quidditch, and then Harry, and then she banned Quidditch all together in an attempt to stop the students from rebelling against her ridiculous orders.

Students were fighting back. They wanted their education, especially the Dark Arts, and they wanted it painlessly and easily.

Sometime just after that, the twins, Lee and I, headed to Hogsmeade to meet with Harry. A large group of us had, the promise of a new future being passed along through word of mouth.

Things were changing. The darkness was growing, and we were all determined to grow with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure why, but I loved writing this chapter. Something about this punishment in the books always stuck with me, even as a kid. 
> 
> I can't believe the love you guys have shown me. I didn't think i'd ever get kudos, bookmarks, or comments. I was just posting to post. Let me know when these thank-yous start getting on your nerves.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and remember- you must not tell lies.


	24. 24. The Army

I was settled in the library, my quill burning through my parchment as I studied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts final. Umbridge was not messing around anymore. Although she may not sit directly in front of us to babysit us in each and every class any longer, she had given us multiple detentions for the smallest of reasons- the same message sinking into my skin every time.

I was livid. I hated watching her cart away students to be permanently maimed, acting like that was not a barbaric punishment to inflict upon children. It stung even more that she had managed to make me fear her in some way. Even if it wasn’t obvious, it had provided her with a certain power over me. I felt as though I had to constantly look over my shoulder.

Shortly into my study, Fred and George burst through the library, their feet slamming against the floor as they barreled toward me on opposite sides of the table rows. The students who were trying to study and finish their assignments glared up at them as they passed.

I jumped, staring at them as they approached with their robes flying outward behind them. Out of breath, they skidded to a stop in front of me.

“Mr. Weasleys!” The librarian stood, astonished at their behavior. Though, after seven years, I wasn’t quite sure how it was still surprising. “Quiet down immediately.”

George waved apologetically, bowing his head. He plastered on a tight smile, which seemed to satisfy her as she sunk back down into her chair.

“Sorry,” Fred murmured, slowly turning to look back down at me. He placed one hand on the back of my chair.

“What on _earth,”_ I sneered, clutching the top of my textbook tightly. I could feel the stinging in my hand at the promise of another detention. “Is going on?”

Fred and George both broke into identical, mischievous grins. Fred sunk to a kneeling position, resting his free arm across the pages of my text book as a way to block any potential reading. Before speaking, he quickly looked over his shoulder to check our surroundings.

When he was sure we were in the clear, that the students seated around us couldn’t hear a word he was about to say, Fred leaned in close. “Remember that _thing_ we talked about? That DA thing? The Hogsmeade thing? The _Harry_ thing?”

I sat up straight immediately, suddenly nervous. I smacked his arm to stop him from talking and nervously looked around. “Of course, I do.”

“Well,” he said, peering up at me from those long red lashes. He raised his eyebrows to his hairline, hoping I’d be able to connect the dots. “It appears a resolution has presented itself.”

I paused, looking back and forth between the two of them. They stared at me expectantly, as though I should already understand the layers of messaging between his few choice words.

“It has?” I asked lamely, glancing up at George in hopes of a better explanation.

Fred rolled his eyes at my cluelessness.

“Pack up your things,” George said quietly, his arms crossed in front of him like the body guard to the pair of us while we had this very secret conversation. Despite the seriousness of their tones, the excitement between the two of them was tangible. “You’re going to want to come with us.”

I slammed my book shut and began to shove everything into my bag.

We tried our best to look like normal, obedient students as we rushed through the hallways, but there was a clear pep in our step. Neville had found the Room of Requirement. _The_ Room of Requirement, the perfect solution to our little problem. What a lad!

The thought of finally having a safe space for us to actually _learn,_ for Harry to _teach,_ to develop the ability to protect ourselves and each other, was utterly overwhelming. Ever since that meeting in Hogsmeade, when I had signed my name under Fred’s and my unhealed scar shot a pain up my arm as I clenched the quill, I had been counting down the days until the DA would come to fruition.

We needed this. Umbridge had showed us quite clearly that we could not rely on Hogwarts to teach us appropriately this year. It was up to us, a bunch of kids, to band together and ensure we were prepared to face the dangers that existed in the wizarding world, especially those that were just around the corner.

Lee was waiting patiently against the wall of the left corridor on the seventh floor, which looked surprisingly like just that- a plain, brick wall. He beamed up at us as we approached, just as excited for our first glimpse at the room revealing itself as we were.

When we were just about three steps away from him, a door slowly came into view beside us, building itself into a large and very real entryway. It appeared quite literally out of nowhere in the sturdy brick.

The four of us froze, staring at it in awe.

“We better get inside,” I whispered, still glued to the spot in between my friends. None of them moved for a second.

Fred jumped forward suddenly, and did the honors. He pushed through the large door with force. The sound of a dozen or so students chatting excitedly amongst each other erupted around us as we entered the wide, rather empty room. I took in the details of our training grounds; high ceilings, various dueling equipment, and a generous amount of light. Impressively perfect.

Harry stood at the front of the room flanked by Ron and Hermione; they were talking quietly between each other. Hermione was holding a small piece of paper and they were looking it over carefully.

I glanced around, trying to see who else was here. It was quite the same group as it had been in the Hogs Head that afternoon. The Patil twins were here, Luna, Lavender, and Angelina and her friends. There did not seem to be a single other Slytherin student besides myself among us.

As Angelina and Alicia’s eyes landed on the four of us as we joined the group, watching me specifically, they quickly turned away in a huddle of whispers. I had a sinking feeling that even if the twins had invited me, and despite Harry being okay with me being here, I was not trusted and definitely not wanted.

I swallowed, forcing a smile to Hermione as she walked forward to greet us. Fred seemed to have noticed the cold reception we had received. It had been a far cry from the warm excitement the twins and Lee usually garnered when they entered a room. He quickly slung his arm around me, placing that security blanket right across my shoulders.

“Thanks for coming,” Hermione smiled, her eyes slowly slid to someone behind me. I couldn’t bring myself to see who she was watching with such a stern look of warning. She lowered her gaze and her voice. “If anyone gives you any trouble, please let me know. You are obviously welcome here, as always, Aylia. Harry’s been very clear to the rest of them that we need you.”

I forced a smile and nodded tightly, trying to ignore the sting of the backhanded compliment.

She seemed to flinch at her own words, realizing her mistake. Gently, she reached forward to touch my arm. “Obviously, we all want you here as well.”

“Right,” I said softly, glancing up at Fred who looked down at me and nodded happily.

I would wager that there had been a long discussion about including me in the Gryffindor common room after I had signed up on that cold afternoon. I didn’t doubt that the twins, Lee, and everyone else I considered a friend had backed me up with fierce loyalty, but it was still off putting to know that most people probably thought having me here, a Slytherin, was a liability to the cause.

I wondered why, as I’d never presented myself as a problem to anyone here besides Angelina, but I tried not to stew on it. I was a loyal friend, I would jump in front of a killing curse for Fred, George, Lee-- hell, any of them. I hadn’t even told Bea about the premise of the DA, despite the fact that her brain would have been an enormous asset, because I had been asked not to by Harry. I respected everyone in this room, and I respected what Harry was trying to do.

When Ginny and Dean walked in last, the first meeting of Dumbledore’s Army officially began. Our first task was laid out clearly in front of us. We were going to learn how to disarm one another.

I smirked, holding my wand loosely in my fingers. I had this one in the bag.

Harry spent the better part of half an hour going over stances, wand movements, and pronunciation. My eyes scanned the room as everyone listened eagerly, absorbing his words and mimicking his movements. I spent the better part of that time admiring Harry’s ability to teach.

“Partner up!” Harry said as his lesson came to a close. He clapped awkwardly to start us off.

Fred and George turned to each other, naturally, and Lee and I did the same.

Lee let out an annoyed sigh as we stood face-to-face. He shot me a defeated look, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He rolled his eyes as he slowly lifted his wand in my direction.

I smiled at him, lifting my own wand carefully. “What’s wrong, Jordan?”

He sneered at me, scrunching up his nose. “Just get on with it.”

I flicked my wand, “ _Expelliarmus!”_

Lee’s wand flew out of his hand, cascading through the air and landing a few feet beside him with a small smack. He let out a huff as his shoulders slumped, and he slowly went to retrieve it.

I’d give him the next one.

“Good work, Aylia,” Harry nodded, passing by.

I noted how he seemed to give a little shrug, like my efficiency was not quite a surprise. Smiling, Harry turned his attention to the twins, who were taunting each other without either of them making a single move to disarm the other yet.

Lee planted himself in front of me again, raising his wand to the ready. He sucked in a sharp breath and frowned, his serious face, nodding that he was ready.

I did the same, mirroring his movements. I nodded once, a hint of a smile on my lips as I watched his eyes darken, determined to take me down.

“A quick flick,” I reminded him, knowing he had a tendency to be heavy handed.

“ _Expelliarmus!”_

I felt my wand soar from my hand and heard it hit the floor beside me. Lee immediately raised a fist in triumph. I smiled at him, watching his confidence course back through him as easily as that.

As I turned to fetch my wand, Fred and George finally pulled the trigger at the same time. The shouted the spell in unison, their words blurring together so effortlessly that I was unsure whose spell would land first.

George’s hit first, forcing Fred’s wand out of his hand and shooting behind him with an enormity of force. I spied it coming toward me and ducked on instinct, feeling as though I’d end up decapitated if it hit me above the shoulders.

I snatched my wand off of the floor and turned to the twins, “Oi Freddie, buckle down now mate. This is serious.”

He spun around, mouth agape. His eyes crinkled upward, that twinkle dancing behind them, but his expression stayed horrified. He held out his arms, trying desperately pull a face of disappointment, but an amused grin was tugging at his lips.

“Whose bloody team are you on?” He asked, and I pointed my wand at his, pulling it back to his feet. He glared at me as he lowered himself to pick it up, just some extra salt for his wounds.

“Focus,” I taunted, giving him a gentle wink.

Lee and I faced each other again, and we took turns disarming each other over and over until his spell became as strong as mine. It had taken only half an hour for him to improve as much as he had, but he had always been a fast learner. By the end of it, it really came down to timing as to who would win in our face-offs.

Then, as though we had choreographed it between the four of us, we all excitedly turned to each other with a wicked glimmer in our eyes, the promise of a competition.

“Teams?” I asked, though I whole-heartedly already knew the answer.

Fred took his stance and pointed his wand in my direction, knowing that he would be the first I’d want to go against. He smirked at me. “You’re on.”

“Five galleons?” George asked, twirling his wand in his fingers as Lee steadied himself across from him.

“Easy money,” I shrugged, nodding to Lee.

Fred’s smile only grew, raising his eyebrows at my arrogance. I hadn’t been paying attention to how many times he had won against George, but I reckon I’d win in our first head-to-head. I slowly raised my wand to point it at Fred, rolling my neck as though to stretch it in preparation.

“Relax, athlete of the year,” Fred joked, rolling his eyes at my theatrics.

“On three?” Lee asked.

I nodded, locking my eyes on Fred with a fierce desire to win.

“Go early and forfeit,” Fred warned, shooting me a stern glance- like _I’d_ be the one out of the pair of us to cheat in order to win.

“One,” George began.

I planted my feet.

“Two.”

I gripped my wand tightly around the base, allowing the top of it to rest loosely against my fingers.

“Three.”

‘ _Expelliarmus!”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

_“Expelliarmus!”_

I had been half expecting to feel my wand cascade from my hand, but instead, Fred’s spiraled over his head and ricocheted a few feet behind him- smacking an observing Harry right in the chest.

Fred stared at me in shock, and then turned to Harry, who couldn’t help but grin as he bent down and handed Fred his wand back.

“I think it was the hand movement,” Harry said, trying to hide his smile as Fred took back his wand. “Like this, see?”

I stifled a laugh as Harry displayed the correct hand motion to Fred, who looked utterly horrified with humiliation as he turned back around to glare at me, holding his wand in his hand like it had been the one to betray him.

George had managed to disarm Lee at the same time as I had done Fred, which left our teams tied 1-1 after the first duel. None of us were any richer with that outcome.

“Switch?” Lee asked.

“Alright, Aurs- let’s see what you got,” George grinned as I walked toward him. “I’m not as weak as my big brother here.”

I burst into a smile as Fred turned his wand on George.


	25. 25. The Lips of a Snake

The lessons with Harry had become the only thing I had left to look forward to. Hagrid had disappeared from Hogwarts, leaving me to tend to only a select few creatures in his absence. I loved the responsibility, but also loathed it. It didn’t harbor the same joy with Hagrid gone, and it felt odd with the number of creatures being so low. Before he left, Hagrid had shipped a majority of the dependent creatures away, knowing I that could not possibly care for all of them and go to school at the same time—especially under Umbridge’s orders.

Unfortunately, the note from Hagrid held the dreaded words that I had been afraid were coming: _the fairies have been sent to a friend in Northern Italy until my return. You should be focusing on school while I’m away. You need those marks high if you want to be a Healer._

I had crumpled the note with a broken heart, my anger not aimed at Hagrid. It had been yet another blessing, possibly the last I had left, that Umbridge had stolen from me. She was single handedly destroying my last chance to have these experiences while I was in school. Who knew when Hagrid would return? There was a good chance that I would not see my fairies again.

Thankfully, the DA meetings were what I had to hold onto. Umbridge was on to us already, banning both group teams and meetings, knowing there was something happening behind her back that she once again could not quite prove. There were murmurs floating around the school, little tidbits about the army, which we all denied vigorously when asked. She knew though, that was obvious.

In response, Umbridge came up with the Inquisitorial Squad, as though that would strike fear into our hearts and make us stop meeting and practicing. The group was a mockery, pompous Prefect wannabees. I was hardly surprised when I walked into the common room one afternoon and saw a group of Slytherins sporting a little silver ‘I’ on their robes as a sign of their membership, Esmerelda included.

Equally unsurprising was that Draco was one of them, too.

I was sitting at a common room table one evening, thankful for a quiet night with no students lounging about. I was trying desperately to focus on classes and schoolwork while wanting to devote all of my attention to the DA. Hagrid had been clear that he wanted me to do well and that reminded me of my end goal. I had to do well, and I owed Hagrid that as well for all he has done for me.

It was that night in the common room, after weeks avoiding Draco after his brawl with Fred, that he spoke to me for the first time. Loudly yanking out the chair across from me, Draco sat himself at the other end of the table, that silver ‘I’ attached to his robers was glimmering under the light like a hazard sign.

I glared at him as I scrawled on my parchment. I loathed the fact that his face had healed nicely over the weeks we had not spoken. He looked like an average, foul, and arse-kissing git again.

I ignored him, scribbling my next sentence onto my Potions paper. I averted my eyes back down to my quill, pressing down harder with every letter.

Draco didn’t budge, he did not move even a muscle. Still, I refused to acknowledge him. We had said all that we wanted to say to each other that day in the library. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing more or less that was necessary to communicate to each other. He had treated me like a doormat and I had written him off as a decent and forgivable human being. Nature had restored itself beautifully. It was almost poetic.

“Aurora,” he said finally, after five minutes of me pretending he did not exist.

I ignored him again, hoping my blatantly childish behavior would force him to take the hint and leave. I hated him for what he had said to me in the library, how he made me feel like a toy he had played with, but that was nothing in comparison to what he did to the twins. I hadn’t forgotten that he was the cause of the punishment we received.

I had begrudgingly noted over the past few weeks that Draco had perfect, porcelain hands. They were hands that were untouched and unharmed.

“Aurora,” he said again, this time more assertively.

“God!” I screamed, slamming down my quill with such force that it nearly snapped in half against the wooden table. I pushed myself out of my chair, balling my fists at my side to stop from impulsively hitting him, “Do you need me to spell this out for you? I do not want to _speak to you.”_

Draco stood too, throwing his chair back roughly. “I don’t care, Aurora. I couldn’t even _try_ to bring myself to care about what you want any longer.”

“Shocking,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Pitiful, selfish twat.

“I am more concerned with your inability to stay out of trouble,” he seethed, his eyes burning into mine. He had clearly been bottling this up for weeks, desperate to say this to me, “You and your friends _had_ to start this little group, didn’t you? Do you understand what your stupidity will do to you if Umbridge finds you among them?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, watching his chest rise and fall with anger. I felt like a mouse in a trap, watching my captor stand above me, holding onto that string of cheese with an evil grin. I was being backed into a corner, one that I would not be able to escape if I didn’t get away quickly.

“I’m not sure what you’re insinuating,” I said quietly, lowering my voice. “But the only group I was a part of was down at Hagrid’s hut, _with_ Professor Hagrid, and that was very short lived, wasn’t it?”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, stepping toward me.

I took a quick step back, keeping a safe distance between us.

“Even if there was. The fact that you’re going to stand in front of me and act like you give a shit about my _future_ is absolutely ludicrous _,”_ I laughed bitterly, watching his face harden even further as my words sunk in.

“What if I do?” He asked, offering a nonchalant shrug.

I almost laughed again at the sheer comedy of this conversation as a whole. Draco had managed to put on a nice-guy act for only a few weeks, but he had not been able to keep up the act for long. These words lacked meaning. I was blatantly aware that his faux compliments were becoming less sincere and more disrespectful.

“Draco,” I set my eyes on him, that rage blossoming in my chest again. I had visions of Esmerelda’s throat and my wand. Nobody was here to pull me away this time. “Leave me alone.”

“Quit Potter’s group,” he demanded.

“Fuck you,” I spat on instinct.

He blinked, taken aback, like he had actually expected me to agree with him. He strode forward toward me, and again on instinct I pulled out my wand from my sleeve and held it out in front of me- between our bodies.

His eyes locked onto it quickly and he stopped his tirade, freezing in place. Draco swallowed as my hand tightened against the wood, his steel eyes flickering back up to mine.

“Will you just listen to me, for once?” he whispered through clenched teeth. It was as though he thought we were old and dear friends, like I had spent years of my life ignoring his very favorable advice. Like he had always had my best intentions at heart.

I held my wand tightly, unwavering. “We are not friends.”

His eyes darkened. “Aylia. Listen to what I’m saying.”

“Why would I?” I shouted loudly.

We both froze, glancing around the common room to ensure we were alone and nobody had rushed to come and see what the ruckus was about. The room remained silent. No doors opened; no people poked their heads out. We were alone.

He just stared at me, dumb and clueless- like our almost-kiss hadn’t happened, and his verbal beat-down in the library had not been a reality either. The look on his face made me want to wind backward and smack him across the face, just once, but as hard as I could muster.

“Are you just choosing to forget about what you said to me in the library?” I snapped, keeping my wand in between us to force him to stay away from me.

He rolled his eyes. “This is not about a stupid conversation we had weeks ago.”

“It is,” I said immediately, slowly lowering my wand to my side. “Because I don’t trust you Draco, and I really don’t like you, so I’d prefer not to speak to you at all.”

“Be reasonable for _one_ moment,” he groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“You were cruel to me,” I said quietly, that burning swelling through my chest. I was angry, my body was enflamed, and the scar on my hand seemed to burn with a reminder of what he had brought into my life. “You are kind for one minute and then you’re an asshole the next, I can’t keep up with it. And _why_ would you go after Fred on the Quidditch pitch?”

He dropped his hand and slowly turned to stare at me again. He looked at me with such disbelief, and seemed to search my face for what he should do or say next, like his mind was telling him to say one thing, but my anger was telling him to avoid it.

“What, Draco?” I scoffed, after a few moments of watching each other in silence. “You have nothing to say now, after being so utterly brave and disrespectful _weeks a-.”_

Draco rushed forward, suddenly and unstoppably. I didn’t have a second to raise my wand again, he had clasped his hand tightly around my wrist and squeezed, forcing me to drop my wand to the floor as my grip was slackened. He used his body to push me all of the way back to the wall, until I was pressed against it with a rough smack. His left hand held my wand arm down at my side, and his forearm pressed across my chest, just under my neck- holding me down.

“You daft, _irritating,_ idiot,” he snapped, pushing down on my windpipe, making me suck in a sharp breath, desperate for air.

I shoved him back roughly, but could barely move under his weight. Rage coursed through me, refusing to show him any fear.

Draco lowered his head in front of mine, his voice deep and quiet, “I fucking hate your Weasel of boyfriend. He is a mediocre wizard in comparison to you. I loathe the idea of you touching him, of his hands on you. I wish for nothing more than to-”

I stared at him in shock, the urge to fight him slowly dissipating as I listened to his words. My eyes widened, watching his face redden with the realization of what he had just said. He had been betrayed by his own heart.

He stopped, swallowing hard, his body still pressed against mine. Our eyes burned into each other; rage consuming the both of us for different reasons. His gray eyes drifted downward to my lips.

And then they were on mine.

His soft lips pressed themselves to my own with a greedy haste, his arm moving from my chest to my neck, tilting my jaw up to him with a light force. Draco’s other hand wound around my waist, keeping his body tightly against mine.

Though stunned, my muscle memory seemed to work in place of my brain. That rush I had felt deep in my belly that night in the common room returned with a vengeance- that familiar _want_ for him so overwhelming that I stopped thinking and gave in.

I kissed him back. It was rough, full of need, our hands gripping onto each other as though the other was going to realize what we were doing and walk away too soon.

Then I thought about his face as he mocked me in the library, looking me up and down with an air of disgust. I thought about his body hitting Fred’s, his shoulder pushing into my best friend as he walked past him, determined for a fight. I thought of the slurs he had aimed at me for years, with all malice intended.

I thought of Fred.

I shoved Draco off of me with all of the force I could muster. He stumbled backward, out of breath and in shock, chest rising and falling heavily. 

We stared at each other again. How could I want him so badly, while hating him at the same time? My body wanted to grab him by his dress shirt and pull him back down to me, but my brain wanted to hex him until he cried. The tension between these two feelings was threatening to make my head explode.

“Aylia,” he whispered. I hated the way he said my first name. I hated how he thought he could use it as a band aid for the way he treated me.

I pushed passed him, picking my wand up off the floor. I rushed to the table, gathering my supplies into my arms as quickly as I could, trying not to fumble anything in my desperate attempt to run.

I turned quickly, but he grabbed my arm again- stopping me.

“Don’t!” I screamed, this time loud and full of aggression.

He immediately let go and raised his hand, his eyes drifting to the floor as he took a cautious step back.

“Fred is ten times the man you will ever be,” I spat at him, and he flinched as though I had smacked him. “You should take care to remember that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I'm SO excited to hear what you guys think of this chapter- PLEASE leave a comment if you have ANY feelings about this whatsoever. 
> 
> It's taking a turn lol.


	26. 26. The Aftermath

Draco Malfoy could rot for all I cared.

How dare he speak so cruelly about Fred and then _kiss_ me, as if that would win me over. The way to my heart _or_ my pants was not by ridiculing and speaking ill of the people I loved most in the world. These were people I would die for.

Draco would never understand that concept. He would die for nobody. He was a rat who would sell his own soul to stay alive. As long as Malfoy managed not to drown, he did not care how many of his friends he threw overboard to meet their doom.

Well, I was not that person. Fred was an extension of me. George and Lee were the same. You make fun of one of them, you call them _mediocre,_ and you are directly attacking me in the process. Smother it over with all of the hot, breathless kisses that you wanted, but you couldn’t kiss out the poison you had already injected inside of me.

Plus, I had my doubts that our little moment had been genuine. Draco was part of the Inquisitor’s Squad now. He had a goal in mind. It was his intention to catch the DA and hand it right over to Umbridge on a silver platter. I would not be surprised if that entire performance was motivated by his thirst for answers. It was rather peculiar that he hadn’t been kind to me after our chat in the library until he needed something from me.

_Please._

I felt like an angst-ridden teenager the day after he had kissed me. I was angry, and by the way Draco was choosing to avoid me, he could tell. There was a small part of me that wanted him to come and try to explain himself, even apologize, because I had spent all night staring at the ceiling preparing a list of all of the ways Fred was a better person than Draco was. I had memorized it. I was prepared to use it.

I had stayed bitter all day, yearning for the Room of Requirement later that evening, where I could practice spells and get my anger out through dueling and practice and spending time with my friends. Nothing felt better than shooting off a powerful hex, that could mend any and all wounds.

“I’m not practicing with you,” Fred murmured immediately after Harry had gone over the curses that we were going to be learning today.

My attitude had been extremely noticeable all day, and the guys had tiptoed around me on eggshells, trying not to make me explode. I was on edge, ready to bite back. It was a blessing that we were learning curses today. All powerful and painful spells. I could picture Draco’s two-faced mug as our targets.

I glanced over at him. “We’re not practicing on each other.”

He raised his eyebrows at my snappiness and looked over to George, “my statement still stands.”

“Ginny, Aylia,” Harry waved us both over.

The rest of the students spread out around the room in a large circle.

I smiled at the Ginny as we approached each other from different sides of the circle. I knew a powerful witch when I saw one, and Ginny was the embodiment of power. Three years younger than me and she could probably still kick my ass both physically and magically. I was happy she could overpower her older brothers in one aspect, because they picked on her enough to warrant it.

Ginny grinned at me, pulling up her sleeves. She pulled her eyebrows together, forcing her most taunting and determined face.

“Ginny and Aylia are both very strong with curses and dueling,” Harry explained, as he dragged two spell-dummies into the center of the circle, between us. 

Ginny and I sized up the wooden and metal figures. They were very tall and sturdy, towering over us in height. They looked old, worn down, and I wondered if prior generations of students had retreated here before to create an army of their own- using these exact spell-dummies to practice on. They were likely jinxed to act like a moving target, which would make this a lot more difficult than our other lessons.

I glanced through them to Ginny.

She raised her eyebrows, sizing it up- impressed.

“Everyone stand back, alright? These targets are going to approach Ginny and Aylia quickly, and they are going to use the Reductor curse to combat it,” Harry himself took a few steps backward, and everyone in the circle nervously followed suit, giving us even more space.

“Three galleons Aurs misses,” George mumbled to Fred, taunting me quietly from behind my back.

“Ten galleons she doesn’t,” Fred said back.

I got into position and held out my wand in front of me. I couldn’t help but smile at Fred’s support. They both knew how much I loved a little friendly competition, and egging me on was only going to boost my serotonin once I proved them wrong. My confidence was already sky-rocketing with the thought of a challenge. Eyes on me, expecting me to either excel or fail miserably, generally made me extremely competitive and desperate to win.

Harry shouted something. What? I wasn’t sure. The dummies suddenly flew forward with so much force that it almost knocked me backward a few feet. Composing myself, I quickly planted my feet and locked my wrist, pointing my wand directly at the circle on the spell-dummy’s chest. I sucked in a quick breath.

“ _Reducto!”_ The curse shot from my wand, seconds before Ginny’s. My curse hit the target with force that I hadn’t been expecting. The dummy exploded loudly in front of me, with more power than even Harry had prepared for, sending me soaring backward through the air like I was weightless.

I had waited too long before casting. The dummy had gotten too close.

Ginny’s exploded shortly after mine had. I landed in a heap, almost flat on my arse on the ground. Fred and Lee had both rushed forward as I was propelled backward and had caught me under my arms just before I hit the floor.

Without thanking them, I rushed to my feet, looking through the dust to try and find Ginny. If I had been hit with such force, she had to have gotten it worse, her spell had hit seconds after mine which meant her dummy had gotten closer to her.

Murmurs and coughs rang through the classroom, which was now enveloped in smoke.

I squinted, stumbling forward, waving my arms to push the smoke away. I couldn’t see anything, nor could I function enough to find my wand to try and fix the room, force the smoke away.

Where the bloody hell was Lee? He was good with charms that could make this smoke disappear. He’d remember them quickly.

“Ginny!” I cried, blindly searching the room. The urgency was extremely clear in my voice. It matched the shakiness I was feeling in my chest the longer I went without seeing her.

“Alright!” she shouted back finally, coughing. “You?”

I let out a relieved sigh, falling back lightly into Fred’s frame. He clasped my shoulders, steadying me. When I relaxed a bit, thankful that his little sister hadn’t been killed, I leaned my head back against him. He rubbed my arms up and down softly.

“Wicked,” He said quietly in my ear, letting me stay propped against him for balance. I hadn’t realized how dizzy the force of that explosion had made me. Fred glanced over at his twin and held out his palm, expectantly.

George shook his head and barked out a sarcastic laugh, looking away from the pair of us, “Absolutely not. I will remind you that I never took that bet.”

Harry had found other dummies to use somewhere in the mess of equipment, since the ones we had used had been blown to bits. One by one, everyone got a chance to try the curse. These new dummies, the smaller ones, were self-repairing. Instead of exploding into smoke, they popped apart like little beads being ripped from a string, and then slowly put themselves back together again. It was much easier to practice without the smoke surrounding us and blurring our vision.

Everyone was doing extremely well. I had caught a few looks from Angelina, who wasn’t the strongest at curses. She had Quidditch to be the best at, and I had this, I fancied that it was a fair trade-off.

After the meeting, the group of us hung back for a bit, sitting on the floor of the Room of Requirement in a heap of exhaustion. We did this quite often now, since it was easier than sneaking into the Gryffindor common room and nobody would come barging in ready to punish us. Our faces were full of soot and dirt from practicing the Reductor Curse over and over again.

I was happy, sitting there with my friends in this big, safe space. I wish I had realized how badly I should have memorized that moment at the time. I should have focused on Fred’s laugh lines, or the way George’s nose scrunched up when he laughed, I should have memorized the sharp notes of Lee’s giggle that brought me so much joy.

That moment was the last time I felt like a kid, like a student, like an innocent girl whose biggest upset to date was that Malfoy had kissed her and Fred liked Angelina.

Everything can change in the blink of an eye. Everything did change.

~*~

I went down to Hagrid’s hut the next afternoon and tended to the few creatures that Hagrid had left behind for me. I only had the Bowtruckles and the Flitterbys to care for, which were so easy that it only took mere minutes each week.

I took my time, trying to keep warm but also keep my sanity by spending some time in my favorite place. I was desperate to keep my routine as normal as I could, despite the chaos of this year. There was only so much control that I could allow Umbridge to have. I wished Hagrid had at least left me Fang. I could have spent my free time in his hut, studying and taking care of him.

It was cold, nearing Christmas, and even with all of my layers, it was still not enough to keep me warm to my core. My toes were stinging in my boots, and I pictured them black and nearly falling off. I could see my breath in front of me as I struggled with the bags of half-frozen feed.

“Need a hand?”

I turned quickly, a chill running down my spine. There he was, bundled up in a fur hat and expensive winter clothing, teeth not chattering in the slightest. I would reckon his lavish coat cost more than my entire house. I glared at him for a second, before turning my back on him again.

“Aurora, we need to talk,” he said softly, sounding desperate.

I tore open the feed, a sarcastic laugh bubbling out of my throat. I couldn’t help it, the idea of needing to do _anything_ for Draco just _had_ to be a joke.

“I took it too far,” he grumbled. I could hear the sound of his boots crunching toward me in the hard snow.

I scooped up some feed and turned to him. He stopped immediately once I faced him directly, likely recalling my wand pointed at his abdomen and the force I had used to shove him off of me the last time he had gotten too close. I would not make that mistake again. He’d never get me in that position for a second time.

“Malfoy,” I said calmly, “These conversations between us are going to stop. I have nothing to say to you, and you should have nothing to say to me.”

He scrunched up his face in confusion, “But… I do have things I want to say to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to hear them if I’m being honest,” I snapped, and some of the feed had cascaded over the top of the scoop and landed in the snow. I turned away from him again, hoping he’d leave, and opened the door to the heated Flitterby cages.

I opened the door quickly, dropping the dried insects onto the floor of their housing. They fluttered around excitedly, desperate for a treat that would last them a week. I spotted the remainder of their food from earlier in the week still sitting in the corners of their cage and made a metal note to cut down their serving size.

“I said what I said in the library because I was pissed off,” Draco started.

I let out a loud groan as I slammed the cage door shut, craning my head back in agony. This man had a blatant disrespect for me and what I asked of him. His lack of boundaries was starting to really irk me beyond belief. Just once, I’d appreciate if he just listened to what I asked and left me alone.

“I was!” Draco said quickly, “I know it sounds stupid, like I’m a bloody baby or something, but sometimes I lash out because- Well, it doesn’t matter. You know how I feel about your friends and about what you guys are doing. They’re both bloody pathetic, Aylia. You and I both know the _Weasley’s_ couldn’t help you get what you want from life.”

“-Draco,” I warned again, spinning around to face him. I dropped the scoop back into the bag of feed. “I don’t care about your daddy issues. I don’t care if you weren’t hugged enough as a child. I don’t care about your excuses, or what you think about my friends. Just leave me be.”

His face fell, and my heart ached a bit seeing the pain that crashed through his eyes. I was targeting the parts of him he buried deep, the things that laid in his conscience each and every day, rooted and entangled in pain. It was a step too far, I could feel it, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. It was the only way I knew that I could get him to give me space.

“I care about Fred, okay?” I said, dropping my arms to my sides. “I care about George, about Lee, and about my family at home. I care about people who are kind, who care about me, and who will be standing at the right side of history when all of this is over.”

I took my gloved hand and gestured to the breast of his coat, where that silver ‘I’ was pinned against the fabric. There was little doubt in my mind that Draco would leave the allegiance of his family at any point. If Voldemort had returned, as I believed he had, it’s likely the Malfoy’s were still a family that supported his mission. People never truly changed; they were only able to put on a mask to hide it.

Was I to blindly ignore that fact because I had nearly hooked up with him at a party one time?

Draco stared at me darkly, mouth half open as though he wasn’t sure how to come back from my verbal assault. It didn’t feel so nice, did it Draco?

“We can do this all year, Draco,” I said quietly, dropping my hands again. “But the end result is the same.”

He sniffled in the cold, his nose growing rosy. Glowering, he looked past me to the forest. I wanted him to tell me that he understood, even if I had been a little mean. I needed verbal confirmation that he was going to put whatever this was behind us. We may wear the same house colors, but we were not cut from the same cloth.

“So, you want me to just ignore this then?” he said bitterly, smirking as he shook his head in disbelief. “Because I called you a few names and I think your friends are pathetic?”

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want. You did me a favor in the library that day, Draco. This thing between us makes very little sense and you know that,” I gestured back and forth between us, trying not to say the details of what happened aloud, as though that would make it more real. The physical satisfaction that we got from this… thing, would never make us people who could _be_ together.

Draco’s eyes slid to mine. “You want me to ignore that I lie awake and _think_ about you, sometimes until the sun comes up? _That’s_ how bad this has gotten?”

I faltered, staring at him in a stunned discomfort.

What?

I had not been prepared for him to be so forward, and I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to handle it when we weren’t in a heated, anger-infused argument. He had always side-stepped around these feelings, or deflected with cruelty and by ignoring me. Now he was telling me he couldn’t sleep because he was _thinking about me._

Oh, come off of it.

He took a step forward, eyes burning into mine. “You want me to ignore that I have not been able to stop thinking about the way your lips felt for the past twenty-four fucking hours?”

I stepped back nervously. “Draco-.”

“-I tried that, Aylia. I tried pretending that this wasn’t real for weeks,” he said quietly, and his eyes fluttered to my lips briefly. He swallowed hard, meeting my eyes again. “It isn’t working. You can say you hate my family, fine- I’d probably hate yours too, but you don’t hate me and I know that, and I don’t hate you.”

He had walked close again, and I had backed up until my feet had hit the bags of feed and I couldn’t move away any further. He wasn’t close enough to kiss me, thank Merlin, and he didn’t look as though he was going to try.

As I stood between him and the dried insects, I was once again trapped. It felt as intimate as it felt that night in the common room, our eyes locked onto each other, daring the other to make the next move.

I blinked, swallowing my nerves and plastering on a brave face.

“That’s the thing, Draco,” I said quietly. “I _do_ hate you.”

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?” I heard a loud, deep voice erupt from behind Draco.

Fred.

Draco and I both jumped. Fred, George, and Lee were walking through the snow toward us, bundled up in their winter gear, Lee’s wand at his side. They did not look happy. This must have looked awful, me backed into a corner while Draco loomed over me like a threat.

“I think it’d be best if you stepped away now,” George said, but Fred was already plowing through the snow.

He grabbed the collar of Malfoy’s coat and tore him away from me, dragging him by his clothing. Fred had practically thrown him into the snow bank, but Draco had managed to keep his footing.

The group of us stared at each other in a confused, stunned silence. The tension was palpable as seconds drifted by and nobody spoke. Draco’s eyes slid to me, and I met his stare- _begging_ him to go.

Fred had planted himself directly between us, using his body as a shield to protect me from Draco. George and Lee were also watching Malfoy carefully, unsure of what he had been doing cornering me the way he had, but Lee’s eyes had scanned me quickly with an odd curiosity- like he had seen something the twins hadn’t.

“Malfoy was just leaving,” I said sternly, breaking the silence.

Draco stared at me for a second, and then his eyes slid to Fred, “I don’t recall that she had whistled for her dogs.”

I winced, expecting Fred to grab him, but the group just continued to watch each other carefully.

Defeated, Draco finally listened to what I had asked for, even if it was _just_ this one thing and had been motivated by my friends coming in like a pack of wolves. He slowly turned away from us, rolling his eyes at the twins, and made his way back up the hill.

As soon as he was out of earshot, the three of them turned to me with their eyebrows raised expectantly.

I shrugged, hoping my poker face was at its strongest, “Questioning me about the DA for the Inquisitor’s Squad.”


	27. 27. The Last Hit Before the Holidays

Later in the week, nearing Christmas break, we spent even more time in the Room of Requirement practicing and enjoying the time we had left in this hellish version of Hogwarts before we got to go home. With the holidays approaching, the whole of Dumbledore’s Army was itching to be with family, counting down the sleeps until we could see them—and this is the closest that we had to family at the moment.

I really wished Beatrice was here. She loved Christmas more than anyone I knew, buying presents for everyone in our dorm each year, even Esmerelda, who rarely ever deserved one. If she was, this little group we created would be near perfect. I think it would _really_ start to feel like the holidays then.

Dumbledore’s army was finding it harder and harder to focus at the same capacity we were usually able to. The strictness and discipline we usually committed to was much less apparent over the last few days. The vibe had become more light hearted as we practiced different spells and jinxes, refusing to acknowledge the darkness that was surrounding the wizarding world and our school over the past year. 

The room was decked out in holiday décor, and I wasn’t sure if it did so itself or if someone from the DA had snuck in here one night and redesigned the room for the rest of us. There was an enormous Evergreen tree in the corner of the room, brilliantly green and vibrant. It was decorated in beautiful baubles and bright gold tinsel, with a large star blinking at the top of it- it looked like it was plucked from the constellations directly.

Christmas was the best part about the magical world. I appreciated it even more so coming from a muggle family. Holiday decorations and the Christmas spirit existed even before I was eleven years old, but the impact of experiencing your first wizarding Christmas was something that stuck with you. I stared in awe at the the Christmas tree in the Room of Requirement. It had snowflakes, real and cold snowflakes, swirling around it that just dissolved into nothing as it hit the floor.

How magical.

In alliance with the tree, mistletoe kept popping up everywhere. Most of the students just burst into giggles and ignored it when it sprouted between them, but some of the most adventurous students gave each other quick pecks, which entertained the rest of us.

I stood in the corner of the room, next to the fireplace with Lee, and watched as a mistletoe laced with red Holly popped up and blossomed right between Neville and Hannah as she tried to show him the proper wand movement for a jinx. Neville’s face grew red immediately, the blush creeping down his neck. Hannah froze on the spot and glanced at him, and then the two of them rushed away from each other to opposite sides of the room.

We practiced a few hexes and jinxes, but mostly just talked about our holiday plans. It was the last day of school before we went home for the holidays in the morning. I was bouncing up and down with excitement to see my family. I couldn’t wait to spend some time living a normal life for a few weeks, away from the evil dictator who had personally destroyed my last year of school.

I had already put together Lee and the twins’ Christmas presents. As was routine, I was going to send them home with them, nicely wrapped and ready to be opened on Christmas morning. I had bought Lee a Quidditch jersey from one of his favourite players, since he had been talking about it for weeks, but I had taken a risk and made the twins their gift.

It was hard to come to terms with the idea that this is the last time we’d have a Christmas at Hogwarts. There was a chance it would be our last Christmas together ever. Sometimes friendships drifted after school ended, and the real world consumed you. Maybe we’d create a tradition of our own after school ended, desperate to keep our little group together.

“Oi,” Lee grumbled as we sat across from each other, lazily practicing a spell or two every couple of minutes.

I had raised my wand and was about to hit him with a tickling hex, just because I knew how much he despised it, but refrained as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Bloody hell,” George said softly beside me.

I glanced to where they were staring and immediately regretted it. Angelina was leaning against the corkboard where our lesson plans were written in Harry’s messy penmanship, and where some photos had been tacked onto the board to make our group feel more united. She was beaming up at the mistletoe that had just sprouted above her head.

I stared, despite knowing that I should look away. Fred was standing just in front of her, his lips growing into a grin as the mistletoe grew and dangled in between them. He leaned down slowly, his hand planted on the corkboard behind her head, and kissed her quickly.

I looked to the floor, slowly turning back to George and Lee. Balancing my wand between my fingers, I fought the urge to shut my eyes tightly in an attempt to erase the image from my brain. It had been so long without seeing any intimacy between them that I had managed to get over it and convince myself it wasn’t happening at all. How foolish of me.

I felt George and Lee watching me carefully. They were both wearing a similar, sympathetic expression. 

“You lot look constipated,” I snapped under my breath. “Cut it out.”

“Right,” George nodded, unable to control the small laugh that escaped from his throat.

“I can send a hex-,” Lee started.

“Drop it,” I warned quietly, dropping my wand to the floor. I suddenly felt no urge to practice anymore. I didn’t even want to be in this room.

I couldn’t be angry. We weren’t together, never had been, and I had never told him how I felt. I hadn’t even realized how I felt myself until earlier this year, when I saw he was back with her and it wasn’t an open opportunity anymore. Plus, just days ago I was snogging Draco like a madwoman who had been let out of St. Mungo’s without her caretaker.

Morally, I knew that I could not just decide that Fred couldn’t kiss anyone in front of me, but inwardly- I really wished I could.

Fred sauntered back over to us, plopping himself down onto his side in the circle between us. Lee met my eyes carefully, but I refused to make this worse by acknowledging I was upset by what I had seen. I could already feel the bitterness sprouting in my chest because I was hurt, and I owed it to my friendship with Fred to stomach it until I was in private. It was nobody’s fault that I felt the way I felt.

“Can’t wait to get home tomorrow,” Fred sighed, leaning back on his forearms.

“I hear you,” Lee nodded.

“The sooner I don’t have to see Umbridge’s ugly mug everyday, the better,” George agreed, tapping the tip of his wand against the floor in a gentle rhythm.

“You excited to get home?” Fred asked, kicking my foot gently with his.

I shrugged, smiling as gently as my heart would allow, “I’m more concerned about leaving all of those creatures unattended. I hope I don’t come back to cages full of the dead.”

“I’m sure Hagrid has that arranged,” he said assuredly with a comforting smile, and I looked away before he could read my forced expression like an open book.

“I reckon mum’s already cooking in preparation,” George said, still tapping his wand over and over again. His eyes glazed over happily at the thought of Molly’s warm cooking in his belly.

“I can’t wait for my family’s cooking either,” I said softly, thinking about the hours they spent over the stove to make it perfect. I could smell the house now, warm and welcoming, a slight tinge of tobacco staining the air behind it all. “My parents always make the traditional Christmas spread, but they also make-.”

“ _Italian,”_ the four of us said at the same time.

I glanced at all of them individually with my mouth agape in surprise. Their smiles grew with amusement.

“So, I’ve mentioned that before, have I?” I asked with a light chuckle.

“Ah, just once or twice,” Fred said, leaning forward to mock a punch to my cheek. I felt my stomach flutter lightly at the gesture, and then I thought of his lips on Angelina’s instead of mine. The butterflies died quickly.

“Alright, Happy Christmas everyone!” Harry said loudly.

The room started to clear out. Everyone slowly gave each other hugs and handshakes, wishing each other the merriest of holidays since we weren’t going to see each other for a couple of weeks. I went to Harry, who had a line of admirers waiting to thank him and gave him a tight squeeze. I couldn’t help but feel a warm happiness knowing that he’d finally be spending a Christmas with family for the first time in his life.

“Thank you so much, Harry,” I said earnestly, letting him go. “This has been incredible. You’re a gifted teacher.”

He smiled gently and let out an awkward laugh, “Thanks, Aylia. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” I nodded, and turned to say my well wishes to Hermione and Ron as well, although I was certain I’d be seeing all of them at some point between now and getting off of the train- better safe than sorry. Maybe Umbridge would find a way to hold me captive over the holidays.

The group of us slowly headed down the corridors, ensuring we weren’t spotted by anyone in the Inquisitor’s Squad. It didn’t really matter, we were safe enough away from the Room of Requirement now. Even if she thought we were up to something, she would not be able to prove it.

We said our goodnights early, and I descended to the dungeons to pack my trunk for the break. I wouldn’t take back much, but I did have to store some clothes and some presents in there to bring home with me. I had been so caught up in my own head for the last few days that I had pushed off packing until the very last minute.

I walked into the common room and it was quiet, only a few students hanging out and talking quietly amongst each other, the silver Christmas tree lighting up the darkened room.

Draco and I met eyes as he sat at a table with Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. He shook his head once, not averting his gaze.

I cocked an eyebrow, unsure what he was trying to say, when someone grabbed my arm.

“There you are!”

Beatrice clasped onto my jumper, a tiny purple package with a pink bow in her other hand. She scrunched up her nose at me as she smiled- excited to give me this gift.

“I’ve barely seen you this past month, which made shopping for you very difficult,” she said with a joking smile, though I knew she missed me as much as I missed her. She handed the small present over to me.

“I have yours in the dorm,” I said, nodding her for her to follow. We headed to our dorm together, and I realized as we soaked up each other’s company that I needed to fit in more time for her. I enjoyed hanging out with Bea, she was a good friend, she had managed to brighten my day in the two minutes we had been talking.

It was short lived, of course, as most things were this year.

As we opened the door to our dorm, we walked directly into the hands of Umbridge and the Inquisitor Squad. My bed, my things, and all of the presents I had wrapped were astray and thrown all over the room. My bedding had been ripped clean off, Beatrice’s Pygmy Puff bracelet unwrapped and on the floor.

A group of female students were standing around watching the pudgy toad lady as she tore my things apart.

By the way Beatrice froze in surprise beside me, she had no idea this was happening either.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, not caring that I was speaking to a Professor.

Umbridge spun around quickly to look at me, stopping her tirade with one of my scarves bundled in her fists. Esmerelda, who was standing next to her own bed, glanced over her shoulder and flashed me a wicked grin. She was gleaming with pride.

“I have it under good authority that you were responsible for that _escapade_ in my classroom earlier this year, Ms. Aurora,” Umbridge turned to me, placing her wand on the top of my nightstand. She bent down and lifted up a small object in between her fingers. “Would you like to explain this?”

I didn’t have to get any closer to know what was in her hands. I felt Beatrice shift nervously beside me, too scared to risk looking at me. She wasn’t willing to give anything away.

Flo, who was sat on her bed beside mine, hung her head in dismay.

“I have no idea what that is, but I assure you it isn’t mine,” I said, and I crossed my arms in front of me. “But thank you for opening Beatrice’s gift for her. That’s yours- there.”

I pointed at the bracelet that had been tossed aside like it meant nothing. I thought about the blue, sparkly paper I had wrapped it in, knowing it was Bea’s favorite colour.

Umbridge met my stare and walked quickly toward us, holding the square in her palm. She raised her eyebrows and lifted her hand to hold it directly in front of my eyes.

There it was, Esmerelda’s smoking gun. A black tiny square with the ‘F & G W’ scrawled on it Fred’s penmanship. I stared at it, and then slowly looked back to Umbridge and watched her lips curl up in a satisfied smirk.

This was not your ‘A-ha’ moment Umbridge. It was mine.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” I asked blankly.

She let out a light laugh, “I am going to assume you know _exactly_ what this is, Ms. Aurora. It’s the exact device that plagued my classroom, and it bears the initials of your co-conspirators,” she let out a disappointed little tut-tut, like she had ever expected better of me.

_Sorry to let you down, Professor._

I laughed under my breath and glanced at Beatrice, who stared at me, wide eyes and plastered on a panicked, big grin. She was clearly unsure on how she was supposed to be acting, and was just trying to follow my lead. I was hoping my next moves would make it clear for her.

“Is something funny?” Umbridge squeaked, snatching her wand back up off of my dresser. “I have to advise you now, Ms. Aurora, that I have the full authority to expel the student’s responsible for this mischief. I will be doing so. Pack your things.”

My heart started racing a bit, hoping that our plan that had been stashed away for months would work out after all of this time. With so much time in between planting the objects and Esmerelda keeping quiet, I couldn’t be positive that it was all still there.

I couldn’t be expelled, not with the DA and not with my intention to leave Hogwarts qualified to be a Creature Healer.

“I am not sure what that is, but I can assure you that if Fred and George were behind it, they would not be thick enough to write their bloody names on it,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes like this whole thing was ridiculous. “Surely, I wouldn’t keep it stashed in my things either.”

Umbridge’s eyes faltered, and she glanced behind her to Esmerelda, who was standing quite confidently watching this unfold. Her eyes burned into mine, knowing that I was absolutely correct in assuming the naivety of her plan.

“Come off it, you’ve been caught,” she said plainly.

“Professor,” I said, looking at Umbridge with a bored and unamused expression. “The twins aren’t that stupid, and neither am I. I meant what I said earlier this year, that gimmick wasn’t us. I’d reckon whoever put that in my stuff is trying to make it look like it was.”

“I saw you with that Es,” Flo said innocently from her spot on her bed.

Everyone turned to look at her, including Esmerelda, whose faced flushed red immediately. She glared at her ex-best friend in a fury.

Umbridge slowly turned to Esmerelda with a tight stare.

“Why would you have that, Es?” I asked, confused. I shot her a genuine look of clueless curiosity.

“I didn’t,” she snapped, looking at Umbridge with big, pleading eyes. “I swear Professor, I _found_ that among her things as she was packing.”

“Wait, can I see that?” Beatrice said suddenly, and she walked forward until she was face to face with Umbridge. Umbridge, who seemed a little bit lost for words, held out the Scream Square to Beatrice.

Beatrice examined it, tracing the letters that were engraved with her finger. I fought a smile as I watched her brows furrow forward in concern. Bless her. She let out a breath, handing the square back to Umbridge and shaking her head at Esmerelda, like a disappointed parent.

“I could be wrong, but I am certain I saw Esmerelda with a bag full of these,” Beatrice said, and Umbridge’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. “I had no idea what they were or I would have come to you at once, Professor.”

Umbridge spun on her heel to glare at Esmerelda, whose face was now as red as a tomato. Her hands were clenched tightly at her sides, and she was glaring at Beatrice as though she could make her head explode by looking at her.

“Ms. Quail?” Umbridge’s tight voice rang out. “Explain yourself.”

“She’s _lying,”_ Es cried, holding out her hands in desperation.

Violet, who had taken a few steps away from Esmerelda, watching her with calculating eyes. “You _do_ hate Aylia, Esmerelda.”

“You’ve been threatening her all year,” Florence added, her hands now tearing at her braid. She couldn’t meet Esmerelda’s eyes. The double-ended guilt must have been killing her.

“Come off it!” Esmerelda screeched at Florence, who winced instinctively. “I do not have a bag of bloody gimmicks in my possession. This has Weasley written all over it!”

“Literally,” Violet grumbled, looking at Umbridge. “That _does_ sound out of character, even for the Weasley twins.”

“Wait, I remembered where I saw it,” Beatrice interrupted quickly, and she rushed forward to Umbridge, placing her hand softly on her forearm.

What a kiss ass. I had to force myself not to smile.

“I watched her put it under her chest of drawers, Professor. I didn’t see her with them again, but that’s where I think she had stored them.”

“Ms. Quail,” Umbridge snapped, looking away from Beatrice to Esmerelda. Her patience was wearing thin. She had been made to look like a fool yet again. “Move out of the way.”

Esmerelda stared at Beatrice, and then her eyes slid to me. I smirked lightly at her, watching the gears turn in her brain. It was clear now that we had been expecting this ambush. Beatrice was conveniently ready with a detailed lie that directly contradicted Esmerelda’s entire plan. She knew that she had been outdone. We had been two steps ahead of her.

Defeated, she took a step away from her dresser and stared at it in dismay as Umbridge waved her wand. The chest of drawers floated upward, revealing a Mimic Mic and a black baggy full of dust just lying underneath, untouched.

Esmerelda turned to Umbridge quickly, “Professor, they are _framing me!”_

 _“_ My office, Ms. Quail!” Umbridge screamed, and it was so loud coming from her little frame that it even made me jump. “Now!”

Esmerelda’s shoulders slumped and she slowly sulked out from behind the beds. Her eyes glued onto mine as she passed, desperate to say something, or maybe even swing at me. I bit my tongue, wanting to give her some parting words so that she’d never forget me, or that I always won.

Umbridge flanked her quickly, not apologizing to me and not even bothering to fix my things that she had thrown everywhere. She stormed out of the room with no further words, clutching Esmerelda by her collar.

We still had an audience, so I refused to meet Beatrice or Flo’s smug smiles of satisfaction. I walked forward, picking up the bracelet carefully, and turned back to Beatrice.

“For one of the best friends I’ve ever had,” I said with a thankful nod, handing it to her.

She smiled, running her fingers over the metal. It was carved with images of Pygmy Puffs, a creature she had always wanted but never bought for herself. She let out a little laugh and nodded toward the gift that was still unwrapped in my hands.

“Don’t bother opening it,” she said, looking up at me. “I got you the same thing.”


	28. 28. The Attack on Arthur

I was awakened by Beatrice shaking me lightly by the shoulders. Startled, I jumped up, clutching my blankets desperately. I reached blindly around my bed for my wand, still distorted. When I finally realized I had been awoken, and this was not dream, I blinked into the darkness, trying to see who was at the side of my bed.

Beatrice was staring down at me, still dressed in her silk green PJ’s which told me it was still the middle of the night and I had not overslept. Beatrice whispered my name, her messy hair falling out of its top knot and into her face.

Confused and still half asleep, I looked around our dark dorm room helplessly. Flo was sitting up too, her wand lit up as she looked at the both of us, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, too. Beatrice leaned down and placed a comforting hand on my trembling shoulder.

Had I been having a nightmare?

I swallowed, squinting through the darkness to find her eyes. Something in my gut felt off, the premonition of bad news. I just knew that I was being awoken for a very serious, but irreversible reason.

I quickly looked at Esmerelda’s bed, which was still empty after this evening.

“I heard her knocking,” Beatrice whispered, nodding toward the door. “You’re wanted in the Headmaster’s office.”

I blinked and then craned my neck to see who was in the doorway. Professor McGonagall stood in the entryway, engulfed by the faint flicker of the lantern she was holding outwardly. Even she was in her sleep robes. Seven years at Hogwarts and McGonagall had never came into the dungeons before.

“What for?” I whispered helplessly, looking up at Beatrice again.

She pressed her lips together tightly, and shook her head. “I’m not sure.”

I threw off my blankets, patting Beatrice’s hand assuredly. I didn’t want her to worry the way that I was worrying right now. She needed to know that I’d fill her in when I knew anything more.

Snatching my wand off of my chest of drawers, I slowly walked toward McGonagall in my bare feet.

“Professor?” I whispered as I approached.

Her eyes were wide, cautious. She looked down at me through her spectacles with a face full of worry. As she lifted the lantern upward, I realized that Snape was standing behind her at the entrance to the girls dormitory.

“Miss. Aurora,” she said softly. “I’m afraid there was an emergency. You’re being requested at the Headmaster’s office.”

“An emergency?” I asked quietly, scanning her face for any clues. “With who? My family?”

I couldn’t imagine what emergency would require _her,_ a Professor who was not the head of my house, to awaken me to retreat to Dumbledore’s office. I’m sure Snape could have done so on his own.

McGonagall shook her head gently and stepped aside, holding out her arm for me to pass. I did, still trying to push my foggy sleep brain aside and _think_ so I could figure out what was happening.

Snape and McGonagall flanked each side of me as we left the dungeons in a weird, uncertain silence. I thought about asking both of them, multiple times, what was going on- but I was so nervous that I just spent the entire walk to Dumbledore’s office conjuring up scenarios that would make logical sense as to why I had been woken in the middle of the night before Christmas break.

My bare feet slapped loudly against the floors as we quickly swept through the corridors. I should have put on slippers, or socks. If I was about to be told my family had been in an accident and I was now an orphan, I should at least be warm.

Neither Snape or McGonagall had their wands drawn, which was a weird thing to focus on since it did not make me feel any better. They wouldn’t need to ward off an evil boggart while telling me that my family was dead, or that they knew I had framed Esmerelda.

Snape seemed neutral, just doing his job, but McGonagall’s concern felt palpable.

We rounded the corner and I hadn’t been prepared to see what was waiting for me. It suddenly felt worse than I had thought, and my heart sunk all of the way to my bare feet.

Fred, George, and Ginny were standing outside Dumbledore’s office. Ginny was pacing in front of the gargoyle in quick, sharp strides. Her face was blank, pale, and she didn’t seem to clue in that we were approaching.

The twins were silently staring out into the hallway, their arms crossed in front of them, not speaking to one another or their sister.

I started running before I could think of all of the possibilities of why they were here, letting them drown me in despair before I had the chance in comforting my friends. My feet slamming against the floor burst through the hallway like gunshots, and all three of the Weasley children turned to me. Fred and George immediately walked forward.

I jumped up, wrapping my arms tightly around both of their shoulders. My heart was racing in my chest as their hands wound around me softly. I could feel it slamming against my ribs.

“What’s going on?” I whispered, pulling back to look at them. I was aware I must have looked absolutely manic, which was not helpful, but I couldn’t suppress my fear. I scanned their faces desperate for an answer.

“I kind of freaked out,” Fred admitted quietly, “I asked them to go and get you.”

“Sorry for waking you,” George added.

“Okay. It’s okay,” I nodded, stepping back, pressing my hand to my chest. “What’s happened? Where’s Ron?”

I don’t know why it had been my first thought, but I had immediately noticed that only three of the four Weasley children were here, in this hallway with me. The absence of Ron seemed like a warning sign, like something was very alarmingly missing.

“He’s in there. With Harry,” Fred nodded toward the gargoyle.

“It’s dad,” George said quietly, and Fred shut his eyes quickly as though George’s words had brought a rush of pain.

I reached for Fred’s hand, squeezing it gently, and he quickly turned his palm in mine.

I swallowed, feeling dread spreading through my chest. “Okay.”

“He was guarding the Department of Mysteries,” Fred whispered, clearing his throat. “He was attacked.”

My eyes widened, my grip tightening on his hand. I looked at both of them quickly, not wanting to push, but desperate to know if this meant that their father was dead. Merlin, _please_ do not let Arthur be dead.

I hoped that Fred couldn’t feel my hands shaking as I tried to act like a beacon of strength for the pair of them.

“Attacked? By who?” I asked.

“A snake,” George said quietly.

“A _snake?”_ I yelled, and Snape immediately shushed me. I shut my eyes, biting my tongue so I did not lash out at him on instinct. This was not about Snape and it was not about me.

“Voldemort,” Ginny said softly.

The three of us turned. She was standing there, so young and strong, but so completely on her own. I had forgotten for a moment that she had been there, feeling all of this fear by herself. I had so many questions, one hundred and four of them probably, but they didn’t matter right now.

“Oh, Gin,” I said sadly, reaching for her. I pulled her into me by her shoulders and for a moment she was rigid, like she wanted to reject my hug, but she let out a little breath of relief instead.

I peered at her brothers over the top of her head. “Is he alright?”

Fred and George nodded shortly.

I shut my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. Oh god, he wasn’t dead. Thank Merlin he was not dead. I forced the burning behind my eyes away. I was so desperately relieved that their father was okay, and that their family was not going to be destroyed this close to Christmas.

I let go of Ginny, and she quickly wiped her eyes, turning away again. I took in the faces of my friends, my heart aching along with theirs. I wished that I could erase all of this for them, or absorb all of their pain.

Without words, I walked forward again and wrapped my arms tightly around Fred’s neck, rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing, just…” his muffled voice drifted off in my ear. I nodded against his shoulder, understanding what he meant. _Just be here._

I pulled back and went for George, squeezing him just the same as I had his brother. Everything was okay. Surely, it wasn’t, not in the grand scheme of things, but right now- something bad had happened but the result had not been the worst-case scenario. That was _something_ we had to hold on to.

I spun on my heel to the face the two Professors who had been left outside with us. They seemed to also be waiting for Dumbledore, Harry, and Ron. I couldn’t imagine the conversation going on inside of that office.

“Professor?” I said softly.

“Yes, Ms. Aurora?” McGonagall asked, like she just knew I wasn’t addressing Snape.

“Would it be okay if I went to the kitchen to get them some tea?” I asked, and her face warmed almost immediately. “I just want to-.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” she cut me off, clasping her hands together with a single nod. “I’ll help you with that. Let’s go dear. Professor Snape, please stay with the children.”

I left the Weasley siblings with Snape, which made me feel very uneasy. When things went wrong, I always yearned for my mum and her comfort mechanisms. If this were me, and my family had been attacked, Mrs. Weasley would have rushed to make me a tea to warm my belly and my soul. Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley wasn’t here. These kids were on their own with only each other to lean on.

McGonagall and I walked in silence with each other until we reached the kitchens. The house-elves seemed shocked to see us there, intruding on their preparations, but the pair of us just smiled politely at them, assuring them we could do this task on our own.

I flicked my wand and began to prepare the tea in one of the kettles. McGonagall slowly started to gather the tea cups and place them on the island in the center of the kitchen.

“Ms. Aurora. I reckon this means very little in this moment, but I feel the need to tell you that those boys are very lucky to have you as a friend.”

I looked at her through tired eyes. I recognized the genuine love for those rowdy kids in her eyes. I understood the complexity of that feeling entirely.

“I’m lucky to have them, too. They’re a wonderful family.”

“Oh, yes,” McGonagall nodded, and she placed the teabags into the cups. “Molly and Arthur have raised them well. You should know, the second they were torn out of bed and told the news, they demanded that we retrieve you. They would not listen to reason.”

I stifled a yawn and set the kettle toward the cups, realizing that she had prepared six cups instead of three. A mother to us all in some way, she had ensured there was enough tea for all of her students: Fred, George, and Ginny-but also Ron, Harry, and myself.

As the water began to slowly fill the cups, I risked another look at her, “If this is Voldemort, Professor. Is he going to try again?”

She stiffened a bit, dropping two cubes of sugar in two of the cups. I watched her carefully, realizing that she knew _exactly_ how Fred and George took their tea to an exact science.

I thought about two eleven-year-old boys sitting across from her, in trouble yet again, their feet dangling off of their chair as they feigned ignorance and innocence. I pictured Professor McGonagall trying to hide her amusement as she attempted to come up with a punishment that would impact them, feeding them tea so often that she still knew their order seven years later.

“I can’t pretend to know, Aurora,” she said after a moment, like she was choosing her words with careful precision. “I have doubts that Voldemort would ever stop until he achieved what he desired, but I’m also fairly certain that it was not Arthur Weasley specifically that he was after.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. It was the answer that I had been hoping for, that Arthur had just been in the way tonight. I couldn’t possibly spend the next few months in school wondering and worrying every day that somebody was going to attack Fred and George’s family- murder their father.

I filled a cup with sugar cubes, and one with milk, while McGonagall charmed a serving tray to place them on. Thankfully for magic, we wouldn’t have to cautiously walk through numerous hallways with teetering hot liquid in our grips. As we walked back to the office, a comfortable silence spreading between us again, the tray of comfort followed closely behind on it’s own.

I sat with the twins on the bench outside of Dumbledore’s office. Ginny leaned against the wall beside the gargoyle, choosing to be alone but eagerly drinking her tea. I had left my own tea on the tray to grow cold, forgetting that it was waiting for me, and watched as the twins slowly sipped their tea.

We said in an agonizing, pained silence as we for Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore to come out and give us any updates.

The time ticked on, and then Snape was brought in, and then it was the five of us. I reached behind us as Fred’s hands shook around his teacup. I placed a comforting hand on his lower back, above his jumper, and I slowly leaned my head on his shoulder.

Fred let out a low breath and rested his head on top of mine.

When Harry and Ron emerged, Harry was promptly taken away with Snape, his eyes desperately looking back at his friends. Dumbledore assured us that Arthur was safe and being taken to St. Mungo’s, and that it was nearing morning.

Exhausted, I felt even more tired with the rush of relief. I had made the decision while I sat on that bench with the twins to spend Christmas with them. For one, I wanted to help out Molly, but two, I was scared to go back to the muggle world with little connection to my friends.

I headed back to the common room to collect my things in a daze, so that we could make our way to headquarters, where we’d be spending Christmas safely tucked away from the world and all together. I had barely made it through the door of the silent, sleeping dungeons, when my emotions caught up to my head.

I hadn’t realized until the adrenaline wore off, and probably until after the nurturing part of me was no longer needed, but I had been so _scared._

Covering my face with my hands, I leaned against the door to the common room and couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. My hands were trembling as I let out a low sob.

I knew everything was going to be okay, but there had been a chance that my best friends could have lost their father tonight. The Dark Lord almost took Arthur, brutally and savagely, and he would have destroyed those kids for the rest of their lives.

I felt a hand on my wrist. A gentle, uncertain touch.

Jumping, I dropped my arms, blinking through the tears. Draco stood in front of me, his brow furrowed, dressed in his black night gear. He held on to my wrist as I stared at him in shock, sucking in a shaky breath.

I tried to speak, but my emotions were too overpowering. I just shook my head, my bottom lip quivering as the tears continued to cascade down my cheeks.

Draco reached up and pulled my hair out of my face, pushing it behind my ear. He scanned my face carefully, as though he was afraid to touch me, and slowly pulled me into him. I knew that I shouldn’t, but it was nice to have someone to lean on after being the person who was leaned on for the past few hours. It took a lot of my emotional strength to not show my fear in front of my friends.

“You’re okay,” Draco whispered, and I shut my eyes as his hand pressed down my hair.

I sniffled, latching onto the front of his shit, trying to regain my composure. I didn’t want to be here, in this moment, but I couldn’t deny how soothing it felt to be held. I wanted this thing between us to end, as I had said to him that day at Hagrid’s hut, but he was always just _there_ when I seemed to need somebody.

He pulled back gently to look at me. His gray eyes scanned my face, disheveled and full of tears. “What’s happened?”

I sniffled, shaking my head. The thought had crossed my mind the second I saw that it was him in front of me. This was an act of Voldemort’s hand, and this boy in front of me was a Malfoy. I could not possibly give anything away, even if he was not yet aware that Arthur had been attacked. I couldn’t risk that he would go and talk to his family about it.

Fred and George and their family were my priority. I would not endanger them.

“Hey,” he whispered, and he cupped my face in his hands.

“Why are you awake?” I blurted out.

“Blaise heard McGonagall and Snape come in, he saw them take you out,” he whispered, seeming unsurprised by the question. 

“So, you just waited for me to come back?” I asked quietly, sniffling.

He nodded once, “He thought Quail had gotten you expelled, but I could tell something was wrong. I thought maybe… your family or something.”

I stared at him and nodded, not divulging anything further. I’d let him think that was the cause of my distress because it protected my friends. I wished Draco was a different person, it would be easier to let go and let him pick me back up like he wanted to, but he wasn’t. I couldn’t trust him, it wasn’t an option. He’d never truly know me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his hands still cupping my face.

I reached to hold his wrists, and I smiled weakly, nodding at him thankfully. He slowly dropped his hands, and I wiped my face quickly with the sleeve of my shirt. It was odd, not being deeply uncomfortable being this vulnerable in front of him.

“I can sleep out here with you if you’d like,” he said, gesturing to the couches. “You don’t have to be alone.”

I was grateful for the gesture, truly, but the thought of doing that would place us five steps backward when I had just established where we stood.

“I’m actually leaving now, for Christmas break,” I said and his face clouded with confusion. “Thank you though Draco, truly.”

He nodded, stepping aside to let me pass to go to the dorms. He ran a hand through his unruly silver hair, making it stick up in all sorts of directions like it had that night at the Slytherin party.

I swallowed, feeling that same feeling deep in my gut that should be ignored.

“Goodnight, Draco,” I said, passing him.

I only got three steps before I heard his nervous, rough voice behind me, far too near to be where I had left him a couple of feet away.

“Aylia,” he said.

I spun around, not bothering to think. I reached for him, cupping his face in my shaking hands. I pressed my lips to his with a softness that reflected how my heart had felt. I hated myself for it, even while I was doing it, but he had comforted me tonight when I had nearly collapsed, and I _felt_ something toward him for that.

So much for not going five steps backward.

My heart just wanted his lips on mine in the moment. I was drunk on overwhelming pain, desperate to make myself feel better even for a second. Selfishly, I just couldn’t walk away.

Draco’s hands reached for my waist, pulling me into him. I slid my hands to his neck, softly letting my hands trail down to his collar bone. His lips felt like ice soothing my wounds. This kiss provided relief to my pain thinking about Arthur, it aided in the agony I felt thinking about Fred’s lips on Angelina’s.

Draco deepened the kiss, reaching up to wrap his fingers in my hair. I leaned back into his touch, pressing myself to him.

I slowly pulled away, keeping our faces close. His eyes took me in, heavy and blissful, his lips now rosy and plump in the aftermath of our mistake. The corner of his lips tugged upward as he wrapped his arms around my back, holding me as close as possible.

“I have to go,” I whispered, still breathless.

“Then go,” he said, his eyes flickering to my lips.

I leaned up, despite myself, and pressed my lips to his again. “This doesn’t change anything, Draco.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Of course not.”

“I mean it. Happy Christmas,” I said softly, placing my hand to his chest to push myself away from him. His arms tightened around me momentarily, but he let me go.

“Happy Christmas,” he whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this satisfies the Draco lovers because things are about to CHANGE. 
> 
> Thanks guys!


	29. 29. The Introduction to Headquarters

Being at Grimmauld place felt both secure and comforting, and honestly it was everything I needed after the horrid past few days we had all lived through. It felt like the sun could not poke in through the windows, and that we were locked within these walls, but the safety that that feeling provided was significant.

I had been on edge since Arthur’s attack. I felt need to both look over my shoulder and keep looking out for my friends, so it was nice to feel like we were somewhere Voldemort couldn’t touch. Feeling invisible made it easier to relax and focus on providing comfort for the Weasley kids until Molly and Arthur joined us.

It was illogical. Obviously, Voldemort could find us if he truly meant to, but the fact that _anything_ had managed to make me feel a bit safer was a miracle. I had practically melted when I got here, falling asleep on one of the couches when I should have been catching up and unpacking with the group. I dreamt of nothing, happily, my exhaustion consuming my thoughts.

On the first evening, the group of us sat in the sitting room, lounging with each other in a comfortable peace. Even Harry, who had been consumed by guilt since last night, seemed to relax as he laid on his back beside the fire place.

I sat beside Ginny and George on one of the couches, my socks pulled up over my sweatpants so that my toes grew toasty from the warmth of the fire. It was odd how a place that I had never been before felt safer than my own home.

It was hard not to think about my mistake. It was my seventh year, my goal was to focus on my grades and the DA, and then land the career that I had been dreaming about since my first year. The fact that I was tied up in stupid decisions, knowing that they did not benefit anyone in any way, was absurd.

Why was I kissing Draco, because I was sad? And _more than once?_ That felt oddly pathetic, and it surely wasn’t fair to him either, but I was not a girl who ran to boys to make her feel whole.

Draco had charmed me because he wanted me, and in some moments, I wanted him too- but our relationship was built on a mountain of disrespect, hatred, and prejudice.

I looked around the room, watching Harry and Ron bust out laughing as Hermione slipped up on her words and accidentally swore, and how the rest of the room seemed to brighten as they joined in on the harmless fun. None of these people had ever considered me lesser than them, nor had they ever belonged to a family who was in alliance with The Dark Lord.

These people loved me. Draco did not. These people were my true and honest friends, and Draco was not. It was hard to explain, even to myself, that I physically wanted somebody, even when I knew that they were not a good person and it was _not_ in my best interest. Since when had I lost the ability to think logically?

I looked over at Fred, who was sat on the loveseat beside me, sipping on a mug full of Firewhiskey. His eyes slid to mine, like he could feel my stare, and he raised his eyebrows with a smile- bringing his drink to his lips.

Fred was sunshine. My heart ached for him every single day. My feelings for him had layers, built upon years and years of friendship, inside jokes, and moments that existed just between the two of us.

Fred’s lips on Angelina’s broke my heart. Draco could get a girlfriend tomorrow and I’d barely blink an eye.

Draco felt the same way, I was sure. He had no genuine interest in dating me, or falling in love with me, he just _wanted_ me at the moment. Draco, though he didn’t go after girls often, usually got the ones that he wanted with ease. I wasn’t interested enough to throw myself at him and feign ignorance to who he was- and I reckoned that is why he had become so persistent.

I’d have to buckle down after Christmas break and find some other avenue as an outlet to let out my frustration and anger that I had been harboring all year. Draco’s lips weren’t the answer, and they surely hadn’t made anything much better thus far. I needed to spend more time at Hagrid’s hut and less time in the common room- destined to run in to him.

“I’m getting a refill; shall I get a round?” Fred stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He pointed around the room.

“Perhaps we should ask Sirius…,” Hermione started, glancing over at Harry.

Harry shrugged.

“He already told me it was fine,” Fred said, waving her off. “God, Hermione, our father almost died. Try to have a little compassion, yeah?”

George and Ron immediately began to laugh at her expense, watching Hermione’s eyes bulge outward and her face flush with a nervous blush. Once their laughter grew at her horror, and it started to echo off of the four walls in the room, the rest of us couldn’t help but laugh alongside of them.

“I know we’ve got time, but I’m already dreading going back,” Ron mumbled once the laughter died down again. We could hear Fred in the kitchen, banging glasses and bottles around. Ron snaked his arms around his knees.

I looked at him, curved in on himself, and saw a young, nervous boy in the moment.

George let out a small groan, “Why couldn’t _he_ set his snake on Umbridge.”

I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, and George just smirked at the response.

“Please,” Ginny sneered, wrapping her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Umbridge is _exactly_ the type of person who would follow Voldemort blindly.”

All of us murmured in agreement, unable to dispute the obvious. I had an inkling Umbridge disliked muggle-borns as much as the typical blood supremacists did. It seemed almost criminal to have her as a member of staff, picking on muggle-borns and blood traitors as though _they_ were in the wrong when she was carving letters into our skin all year.

“I don’t want to hear that name again while we’re here,” Fred demanded, walking back into the room with a sterling silver tray, which looked like it cost a fancy penny, stacked with drinks that were filled to the brim.

He walked to me, lowering the try so I could take my pick. I raised my eyebrows at the decorative cinnamon stick that he had placed in the mug as I grabbed it. He moved to George, holding out the tray, and I swirled the ice around with the cinnamon, impressed at the presentation.

Fred made his way around the circle, allowing everyone to take their drinks. Ginny started drinking eagerly, probably relishing in this moment while her mother was away.

I took a weary sip, letting the Firewhiskey hit the back of my throat. I tasted the surprising aftertaste of honey.

“Shall we play a game?” George said, letting out a stiff yawn as he sat up to place his mug on the coffee table.

Hermione immediately looked nervous. But Harry and Ron had instantly scooted forward to sit on the other side of the coffee table, nodding in agreement with George’s idea.

“Don’t make it weird,” Ginny demanded, but she also sat up to be involved.

“If you tell the truth, you live to see another round, if you lie- you drink,” Fred smirked, wiggling his eyebrows in anticipation.

Oh, bloody hell. This would get messy and it would get messy quickly. I swallowed a greedy gulp of my drink, deliberately avoiding Fred’s eyes. George clasped his hand on my shoulders with an encouraging shake.

A plethora of questions that I didn’t want to be asked flashed through my head.

“Aylia, you start,” Fred smirked, holding his mug up to his lips expectantly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not wanting to be the guinea pig. Sighing, I let my eyes slide over everyone in the circle, trying to think of an ice breaker that would be tame and keep this appropriate. I’d feel bad singling anyone out besides the twins, although I was also _quite_ scared of what the twins were going to ask me.

“Ginny,” I decided, and she froze but broke into a smile instantly. “Who is a better kisser, Michael or Dean?”

Hermione let out an excited giggle and covered her face with her mug. She surely already knew the answer to this one.

Ginny smirked, confidently placing her mug down on the coffee table. She sat back, crossing her arms in front of her. She was enjoying the irritated and uncomfortable looks from her brother. “Easy, Dean.”

I smiled, nodding. That wasn’t surprising at all, Dean was _significantly_ cuter than Michael and Ginny seemed to have been attached to his face for the majority of the first term. She and Michael had never really seemed on the same level.

“Do I go next then?” Ginny asked, and everyone nodded. She immediately looked across the table. “Harry!”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he sunk into his shoulders. Ginny zoned in on him, leaning forward on her knees.

“Are you into Cho Chang?”

Hermione and Ron slowly turned to look at Harry, whose mouth opened slightly, but without any sound. I watched him as his nerves rose, trying not to smile at his discomfort. Honestly though, what direction had they all expected this game to go?

“I-uh, she’s… she’s nice-,” Harry blubbered, nodding eagerly.

“Yes or no,” Ginny snapped, clasping her hands together loudly.

“Or drink,” Hermione added quietly with a gently shrug.

“Right,” Harry nodded, immediately bringing his drink to his lips and taking a generous sip. As Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned backward, Harry quickly wiped the beads of sweat that had pooled on his forehead.

“Ah, come on Harry,” Fred poked, shaking his head. “That was an easy one.”

“Direct yours at Fred then, Harry,” Ron said.

Harry glanced at Fred, who met him with an encouraging smile, but his eyes fluttered away quickly- deciding that he did not want to start that battle. Well, Fred could not possibly get off scot-free. We were going to have to ensure he had to answer _something_ juicy. 

“Aylia,” Harry said, meeting my eyes.

I pressed my lips together tightly and nodded.

“Is it true that you threatened Esmerelda Quail and beat her up over a table in the Slyhterin common room this fall?”

Everyone’s heads turned to me quickly. Fred and George looked utterly shocked, which meant _that_ story had never reached them. How Harry knew? I was unsure. Nobody outside of my house had asked me about it until this moment. I leaned back into the couch to mull it over, wondering if Harry _also_ knew who had saved me from an inevitable expulsion.

“It’s true that I threatened her and put my wand to her throat, yes” I nodded, and Fred and George raised their hands in shock, looking at each other in confusion. “But I didn’t hit her, no.”

Harry smiled, nodding in satisfaction. I’m sure he was just happy for his turn to be over. I watched him for a second longer, for any trace that he had known the whole story, but he seemed content with my answer.

“When the bloody hell did you do that?” Fred asked.

“And _why?”_ George added.

I was brutally aware of the waiting eyes, desperate for a story. That was surely the point of the game, anyway. I couldn’t possibly burden them with the truth of what happened, the comments about their mother that had to be set straight that night. They’d have to live with a dumbed down version of the truth.

I shrugged, “It was after the Scream Squares. She made a comment about you two and Lee.”

Not _all_ lies.

Fred stared at me, appalled. He looked from me to his twin, “And she never told us?”

“The betrayal,” George shook his head in fake disappointment.

They had to have both realized the timing of this event. It was right after the prank and it was in the Slytherin common room, where I would hide from them as often as I possibly could. The group of us weren’t exactly sharing all of our secrets with each other when I had almost shoved my wand down Esmerelda’s throat.

“Alright…,” I said, scanning the room. I didn’t like being in this position. Asking the questions felt a bit like a cruel mission. “Georgie.”

“Oh, here we go,” he whispered, taking a big gulp.

I rolled my eyes at the dramatics and thought long and hard about what question I wanted him to answer.

“Were you and Fred responsible for losing Muppet in third year?” I asked, trying my hardest to be as blunt as possible. That way, they wouldn’t have time to brace for it and try to formulate an answer between each other.

I had been wondering this since I was thirteen- my cat had gone missing at school and came back and end of term- hairless and infected from being on the streets. Fred and George had been joking about her the night before, so I questioned them the weeks that followed, but they always refuted that they were at fault.

I kept Muppet at home with my parents now.

George’s eyes widened slightly, and he froze with his hands locked in front of him. Without moving a muscle, he quickly looked to his twin. From my spot between them, I could see Fred shake his head firmly from the other couch. He reached down grabbing his drink and downing the rest of it. Nodding in agreement, George chugged the rest of his as well.

I glared at them, having my answer without them really giving me an answer.

“You’re bloody joking!” I shouted, desperately looking back and forth between them.

“I’ll go get the bottle. We’re out again.” Fred said innocently, standing abruptly while George looked away. He placed his hand atop my head. “I’ll make you an extra strong one. You know, for your troubles.”

I glared up at him, thinking about how I been devastated for weeks looking for that bloody cat. They had snuck out night and day to look for her, often without me, and seemed just as worried as I was.

What a load of bullshit, and they probably thought I was just going to grin and bear it because of this stupid game. Hell no, I wanted to know why she went missing and how. I knew that I wasn’t going to be getting any answers tonight, but I was going to have to press them for them soon.

The game went on the questions got steamier as the alcohol flowed freer. I had started enjoying myself, the embarrassment wearing off as the buzz came on. I learned _a lot_ about Hermione, including her snogging Viktor Krum, and quite a bit about Ron although his were much less scandalous and quite a bit weirder. It was a barrel of laughs, and it felt normal, much like the Burrow in the summer. Blissfully so.

But then Ginny, drunk and ready to get her brothers back for their questions, turned quickly on Fred once it was her turn. “Why the absolute _fuck_ are you with Angelina again?”

I tensed, my eyes lowering to the ground. I quickly grabbed my drink and brought it to my lips. Fred and George both stared at their sister curiously. George slowly turned to look at Fred, gaging his reaction before he spoke.

I couldn’t help it, my eyes nervously followed over the top of the rim of my cup.

Fred glanced at the pair of us. We stared, blank-faced, waiting for him to answer. Fred’s eyes flickered to his sister with the flash of grin, his jaw set. 

“Well?” she asked bluntly.

He smirked, leaning back in his chair, his hands cradling his mug. “Who said I’m back with Angelina?”

Ginny scoffed and rolled her eyes. “The whole bloody DA saw you snogging her. Plus, you two were all over each other at the common room party.”

I watched Fred carefully, recognizing the odd satisfaction that he was getting from this- but there was also a bit of defensiveness. He folded his hands in his lap, and nodded as he considered her words, looking up at the ceiling.

I sat back, suddenly very aware that Hermione’s eyes were locked onto me. I quickly looked away, back to Ginny, who had not shrunk even an inch under her brother’s stare.

“So is your question _if_ I’m with or, or _why_ I am with her?” Fred asked carefully. Of course, he was still thinking about the technicalities of the game and how to undermine her and win.

“ _Why,”_ Ginny said sharply. It was clear that she wasn’t falling into his trap, she deliberately chose her question knowing that it would force him to give the most detail.

“Well, he always said she has good knockers,” Ron snickered, nudging Harry’s arm.

Harry chucked under his breath, but when they looked up and met Hermione’s hard stare, they both quickly stopped laughing.

“Answer the question,” Ginny said.

I finished the rest of my drink, which was a little _too_ much, but I was feeling desperate. I stood, quickly, interrupting their tense little moment. Both Ginny and Fred broke their stares to look up at me, and Ginny smiled lightly, sinking lower into the couch cushions like she had gotten the answer she needed.

“I’m going to pee,” I said, addressing the room. “Carry on, I’ll be right back.”

I walked out of the room, and could hear Ginny interrogating Fred again, but she had lowered her voice to a near whisper. I quickly rushed down the hallway, hearing voices coming from the kitchen as I passed.

Swinging open the bathroom door, I promptly locked it shut behind me and closed my eyes, my hands clutching the cold marble sink.

Just breathe. You’re fine. You’re just drunk and emotional.

My head was spinning. I needed it to stop before I went back out there. I didn’t need to hear the rest of that conversation, even if the answer _was_ her knockers. I should have known my limits. I was stressed, scared, sad, and confused- the last thing I should have done was get drunk, _especially_ with Fred.

I wished that kissing other boys helped me get over it, because I’d snog Draco every day if I had to just stop _feeling_ this way. It was too hard. We were adults now, and I needed to focus on building a career and building my skills so I could survive on my own and so I could fight alongside my friends if I needed to. I hated that all of these thoughts were laced with a pathetic need _._ I _needed_ Fred to be a part of all of that, forever.

I sucked in a breath, turning on a tap to funnel some water into my mouth. Sighing, I stood and straightened out my collared top, fluffing out my curls so that I looked like I had _not_ been having a crisis in here. I nodded, mentally pepping myself up, and I swung open the bathroom door.

I walked back into the room with my shoulders back, relieved hear that George was now questioning Ron and everyone had quickly ganged up on him. I sat back down, noticing my drink had been refilled, and quickly reached for it so I had something to do with my hands.

I glanced at Fred, whose face was consumed by a smile as Ron tried desperately to defend himself.

I wished I had the balls to ask _him_ the question I wanted to: Why not me?

I wish I had noticed Ginny’s pleased smirk as she watched me watch her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI guys! Again, thanks for the support. I noticed I'm losing bookmarkers and I am sorry if this story isn't going in the direction you had wanted and/or expected it to.
> 
> Please let me know if it was not what you expected so I can change the tags appropriately. I don't want to waste anybody's time.
> 
> Thank you all, as usual, for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks!
> 
> XOXO


	30. 30. The Night of Christmas

I woke up the next morning early, as though my body was worried too much sleep would be detrimental to my health. I begged to differ. I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for a couple of hours, listening to Hermione’s soft snoring, trying to push the gentle throb of a hangover out of my head.

I eventually gave up and tore the blankets off of myself, tip-toeing out of the room, softly shutting the door behind me. It couldn’t even be seven in the morning yet. Grimmauld place was dark and silent, feeling as sleepy as its occupants.

I walked into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I let out a loud, exhausted yawn, opening a couple of drawers in a tired look for the coffee. I had left my wand up in the room with the girls, and couldn’t possibly risk disturbing them again this early when they would be nursing hangovers of their own.

“Accio coffee,” I whispered, wandlessly. I laughed to myself at my own stupid joke.

“Top shelf, just above your head.”

I jumped, spinning around and clutching my chest.

Sirius sat at the end of the table, a cup of coffee steaming in front of him, he held the Daily Prophet in his hands. He peered up at me from above the newspaper with an amused grin.

“You don’t have to worry about that though. I suspected that you lot would need some this morning,” Sirius flicked his wand. The coffee, the small metal machine, and the water began to sort itself in the air in front of me. The machine placed itself back on the counter and began to heat up.

I ran a hand through my tangled hair, feeling ever so grateful for magic again. “Thank you, sir.”

Sirius winced and gave a defiant shake of his head. “Oh, absolutely not. Please never call me sir again. You’re a guest in my home, and I am _not_ your professor, save the ‘sir’ for Remus, just to get on his nerves.”

I smiled, and Sirius winked up at me in good faith. His eyes flickered back to the Daily Prophet, where I hoped they had run an article about Voldemort attacking Arthur. It was about time that the government did their jobs and advised their people of what was _really_ going on in our world.

The coffee finished itself and let out a little whistle to let me know it was done. I slid one of the black mugs toward me and poured the dark liquid into the mug- cherishing the smell as the steam filled the air in front of me.

I was _tired._ I was tired of being tired. It seemed like the beginning of term was a different lifetime entirely. The darkness had been on the edge of the horizon, and it had definitely crossed my mind from time to time, but now it had arrived at full force and disrupted our lives like a vicious storm.

The pounding in my head resumed at the thoughts, thinking about Arthur and the snake again. I took a big gulp of my coffee and let out a happy sigh.

“Bloody hell, my head,” George walked into the kitchen clad only in his boxers. He let out a low groan as the light hit his eyes. He paused, noticing both Sirius and I staring at him. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Sirius said quietly, sipping his coffee.

George reached for the freshly made coffee beside me. He poured himself a generous cup, looking at me oddly as the liquid filled quickly. His brow furrowed, as if there was something that he wanted to say but could not decide if it was the right thing to do.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning next to him against the counter.

“You look dashing this morning,” He said, groggy and tired. The little curl of his lip told me that he didn’t truly find my messy and tangled curly hair and day-old makeup as attractive as he was letting on.

“Spit it out,” I demanded. It was unfeasible to me that after all of these years, George was still unaware that I could read him with a blind ease.

He placed the now empty coffee pot back on the counter and let out a small sigh. I glanced at him, seeing that look of tension that he wore often, caught between the best interest of both his brother and myself.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he said finally, glancing over his freckled shoulder to me.

I shrugged, not really caring about his moral standpoint at the moment. He had been the one to make it evident something _had_ to be shared, and this cat and mouse game was not something I could partake in this early while I was this hungover.

George rolled his eyes, pushing himself off of the counter. He snatched his mug then, and quickly looked to Sirius, who seemed uninterested in our presence at all. “Alright then, come on.”

I turned back to Sirius, whose eyes were buried behind the Prophet. “Thanks for the coffee sir- Sirius.”

“Of course, darling,” He said, his face still hidden.

George guided me out of the kitchen and back to that sitting room where we had our drinks last night. I quickly picked up the pillows that we had rudely left astray, and took a spot next to George on the couch. It was chilly this morning, the heat seemed to have evaporated overnight, my bones shook gently as I cradled my warm mug.

George winced, sitting down. “Merlin, my head.”

“On with it,” I demanded, though not intending to be so short. I was so sick of harboring my own secrets that I needed to hear this one.

He raised his eyebrows, catching wind of the attitude I had woken with. He sat up straight, placing his mug on the coffee table between us.

“Alright, alright,” he cooed, clasping his hands together. “I feel like you should know about what Ginny had said last night.”

“Ginny?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, “That’s the one.”

“When?” I frowned. I had been with them all night, and I retreated to bed with Ginny in the wee hours of the morning, drunk and giggling. There was hardly a way I could have missed something so imperative.

George looked at me carefully. “When you went to the loo, she-.”

“You’re aware our room is _right_ next to this wall, aren’t you?” Fred grumbled, walking into the sitting room. I was relieved at least one of them had been sensible enough to put on clothes. Fred’s blue pants were nearly hanging off of his hips, he stretched, shooting us both a cold look.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, sipping my coffee.

He looked at the pair of us oddly, like he could tell that we had been speaking about something private- something that didn’t involve him. I glanced at George, but by the way he smiled earnestly at his twin and reached for his own coffee, it became painfully obvious that this story about Ginny was going to directly involve Fred.

Fred ignored our silence, and decided that he was going to disregard our private moment in an act of defiance. He settled on planting himself on the loveseat again, entering our conversation as though he had been cordially invited. He leaned forward on his elbows.

“Share with the group,” he nodded with encouragement, though I wondered how genuine that encouragement was. “Is this about Muppet, because truly- it was a mistake.”

George took the bait immediately, almost too eagerly. Even his twin’s eyes clouded with suspicion, carefully watching George’s face for a trace of a fib.

“Yes, it was!” George nodded, and he smiled brightly at me, begging me to play along.

I couldn’t help but shake my head at his inability to read the room. I didn’t want Fred to know what we had been discussing either, mostly because it involved him, but George would _not_ have been beaming from ear to ear while he told me how he lost my cat.

“Share with the group,” I grumbled, looking to Fred. “I’d love to know how I was lied to for the past four years.”

“We may have used Muppet in a scheme gone wrong,” he admitted. The way his eyes were watching me, and how his body language looked so defensive, I knew that he was being honest. “We attached a Pitcherol to her collar. We left a trail of CatAttract toward Snape’s storage room and… well.”

His eyes flickered to George, looking for help. George cleared his throat, desperate for this to end.

“We spread _a lot_ of CatAttract in that closet, hoping dear old Muppet would start eating it and the Pitcherol would go off and shatter all of the glass in the room,” he said, flinching inwardly.

“Except Muppet _may_ have gotten distracted,” Fred finished. He looked apologetic, as though he was fully expecting for this to break my heart. “She followed a bloody rat right out of the school instead of the CatAttack.”

I stared at him, absorbing the information and comparing it to the lies that they had fed me for years. I felt a bit bitter toward them, of course, as they had stomached this to preserve their own arse rather than be honest with their friend.

But in the end, Muppet had come home. It was ancient history.

“Why was she missing fur?” I asked.

Fred shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair. “That part, I have no idea. Stress, perhaps.”

“Fighting, maybe.”

I cringed, thinking of my poor short-haired Muppet out in the wild brawling with other animals. She had been so dependent on me, and I had begged the twins to stop considering her as an extension of me- to be used when required in their schemes. She wasn’t a bloody dog; it was foolish of them to believe that she was controllable through the equivalent of cat nip.

“You can hit us, if you’d like,” Fred offered after a moment of silence passed between us.

“We’d understand completely,” George nodded.

I sighed, bringing my mug to my lips. I didn’t particularly care to make them suffer over something that happened when we were thirteen. Plus, I was entirely too hung over to raise my voice.

“It’s fine,” I muttered.

“You’re sure?” Fred asked. He didn’t seem convinced that I was putting this behind us.

I shrugged. “You are both lying gits, but it’s fine. Bigger fish to fry nowadays.”

George scanned my face carefully, and I wondered if he could also read me like an open book the way I could him. It was clear something had been changing in me in the last few days, I felt it myself. I’m sure George hadn’t missed my hands on Fred’s back, desperate to comfort him, mixed with the inner torment over not being able to have him.

I’d be the first to admit that it had gotten much worse, much more intolerable, with the threat of danger hitting so close to home. All I wanted was to grab his face and yell at him, begging him to wake up and see that I was utterly and regretfully in love with him.

Which meant George had woken up to tell me about Ginny because it mattered. As I glanced at him, the tiredness paining my eyes, I wondered if whatever she had said was going to break me.

George and I did not get another chance to talk one on one that day. We eyed each other carefully in fleeting moments, and I was hoping he could understand that I desperately wanted to get him alone. If he had any sense of what I was asking, he ensured that we were never alone for more than a few moments.

I sat in the twins’ room, playing a card game that I had taught them from home, and noticed how George avoided my eyes. He was choosing to act as though he hadn’t said anything at all earlier in the day.

~*~

The next morning, Ginny poked me awake. She stood over me with her red hair standing in every direction, beaming down at me like a small child. She handed me a steaming cup of coffee.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes and flattening my hair. I took the cup from her gratefully.

Hermione was also sitting up on top of her blankets, dragging a brush through her bushy hair. She looked at me through the mirror that she was holding in her palm.

“Happy Christmas, Aylia,” Hermione smiled.

I blinked, almost forgetting the day. I placed the mug gently on my nightstand. “Happy Christmas guys.”

Ginny nodded, lowering herself back onto her bed. She let out a happy, light breath, as though she could finally breathe for the first time in days. “Dad’s coming home today.”

I raised my eyebrows, perking up. “You’re serious?”

She nodded eagerly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mum rang, said they’d be here by dinner.”

“It’ll be nice, having Christmas all together,” Hermione said sweetly, watching Ginny’s smile grow at the thought.

“I should go and see your brothers,” I yawned, standing. I slipped my feet into my slippers and snatched my mug off of the nightstand. I turned to Ginny before I reached the door. “Thanks for the coffee.”

I left the room and went straight to the twins’ room, throwing open the door without knocking. I could hear their snores flooding through the small room, so loud that I’m surprised it hadn’t kept the rest of us up. They didn’t waken as the door slammed against the wall, announcing my entrance. They barely even stirred.

I looked at them individually, both sleeping peacefully with their blankets pulled up to their necks. George was on his side curled up like a little boy, and Fred was flat on his back with one hand behind his head. He let out a loud, throaty snore as I looked at him. I slowly placed my mug of coffee on his night stand.

I took one breath and jumped onto his bed with all of my might. He let out a scream of surprise, his hands instinctively reaching up to grab me as his eyes popped open.

“Happy Christmas!” I shouted with a beaming smile, patting his chest over and over like a drum. I tried not to focus on his hands on my hips, his grasp softening as he groaned in dismay seeing that it was only me who had interrupted his slumber.

George let out a grumble from his bed, “You’re a bloody child, you know that?”

I glanced over my shoulder. George had rolled over and had pulled the blanket over his head, his eyes watching me with a curious wonder. I quickly looked back to my position, straddling Fred with his hands on my hips, and realized how this must have looked.

I immediately rolled off of Fred, tucking myself between him and the wall.

Fred grumbled, peeking over at me with one lazy eye. “Hey, get back here. You were warm.”

“Shove off,” I whispered, pushing him gently with my feet. I could feel the heat spreading from my chest and up my neck, about to give my embarrassment away. I held my knees tightly at my chest.

George let out a sigh and pulled his blankets back. “Well, Happy Christmas Aurs. Thanks for the lovely wake-up call.”

“Your dad’s coming home today,” I said, realizing I hadn’t yet broken the news. George and Fred both lifted their heads. “Ginny told me.”

They glanced at each other, and soft smiles spread on their lips. I sensed their relief, similar to Ginny’s, that their family was finally going to be together again after such a scary experience. They had been carrying some anxiety about what happened since that night, and it would only dissipate when they could see with their own eyes that he was okay.

George threw back his blankets and let out a low groan, stretching. He had slept in more clothes than the night before. He rubbed his face roughly and stood, dragging his feet over to Fred’s bed. He stared down at me with tired eyes and held out his hands lazily. “Alright then, Happy Christmas.”

Breaking into a smile, I pushed off of Fred’s bed and jumped down. I wrapped my arms around my best friend tightly, squeezing him to me. I was so grateful for him, for them both, and for Lee. I hoped they knew that through all of these little moments and their hugs, that all of the darkness in the entire world would never be able to hurt us.

“Your parents must hate you,” George muttered, patting my back. “Seventeen years old and still waking up at the neck of dawn.”

“It’s nine!” I protested, shoving him off of me. “And it’s _Christmas.”_

He rolled his eyes, waving me off like my excuses meant very little. “I’m going to get a coffee. I’ll get you one, Freddie.”

I glanced down at Fred, who was still curled up in his blankets, looking up at me with a bemused and tired smile. My heart fluttered as his hair fell onto his forehead. He patted the space beside him.

I sat with little complaint. He reached up and lazily faked a punch to my cheek. “I find it endearing.”

I pushed his hand away, leaning against his legs. “You find what endearing?”

“How excited you are for Christmas,” he laughed lightly. His voice was groggy, deep- still drowning in sleep. “It a pleasant diversion from all of the gloominess around here.”

I stared at him as his eyes drifted shut again, his hand dropping from my face to my side. Without a word, or an indication that he was still awake, his fingers wound themselves around my wrist- loosely holding onto me. I froze, staring at our connected bodies, feeling that surge of a crack course through my heart as it broke in my chest again.

“Oi, get up mate,” George said loudly, entering the room with two hot cups of coffee. Fred’s eyes snapped open again, and that hand that had touched my skin as gently as the whisper of secret, let go to rub his eyes. “If I have to be awake, you do too.”

Fred let out a breath and pushed himself up, taking the cup from his brother without so much as a thank-you. He glanced beside him, noticing my own abandoned cup, and used his spare hand to pass it to me without being asked.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, and we both hung our legs over the bed and drank our coffees shoulder to shoulder, while George watched curiously from his own bed across the room.

We spent the morning lazily lounging in their room and honestly, it was one of the best Christmas mornings that I could have imagined. It was hard not being with my family over the holidays, but being in a small bedroom and laughing with Fred and George had the same comfort of being at home anyway.

By the time dinner was nearing, the Weasley children were growing very antsy in anticipation of seeing their father. Ginny was desperate to talk, wanting to set up the dinner table so that her parents and Sirius didn’t have to do it. So, she, Hermione and I did just that to make her feel better.

We set out the Black’s good china and their golden forks and spoons, looking at each item with a sense of wonder. It was hard not to think about Sirius here, a Gryffindor teenage boy, eating off of spoons that could pay my way through life. He seemed like he would have belonged to a different kind of life.

We were all sat in the kitchen sipping cider that Sirius had had Kreacher make for us, when the door opened and Molly’s warm, sing-song voice echoed through Grimmauld Place. Ginny shot up like a rocket, and rushed to her parents before they could even get into the kitchen.

The rest of us stood, excited, but the smiles faded almost instantly when Molly rolled Arthur into the room in a wheelchair. He was black and blue, his eye swollen nearly shut. There were cuts and bandages all over him. It was a shock to the senses.

Tears prickled at the back of my eyes watching all of his children’s faces fall.

“Daddy’s home!” Molly announced, plastering on a smile as she saw the concern on the faces of her children.

I turned to the twins, who were standing beside me, and nodded with encouragement, gesturing for them to go to their dad. It’s hard when the head of your family, somebody who held your hands and helped you grow, was sitting before you so broken and fragile.

I gently touched Fred’s waist, pushing him toward his parents.

“Dad!” Fred said cheerily, breaking out of his funk. He raised his hands as he walked around the table and Arthur beamed at him. “You’ve never looked better.”

As he leaned down to gently hug his father, Molly whacked his arm. Arthur, however, was in stitches, wincing as he broke into deep chuckles.

“Alright, dad?” George said, gentler than his twin. But he always was, wasn’t he? Arthur beamed up at his son and leaned into his hug, happy to be home.

We sat and had a very nice dinner, toasting to Harry for saving Arthur’s life. Harry seemed to relax, finally certain that nobody was angry with him or putting any blame on him for what happened. It would have happened anyway; Arthur was lucky that Harry had seen it. It was the first genuine smile Harry had made since the night of Arthur’s attack.

The room was lighter now that Molly and Arthur had arrived. Molly had smothered me with hugs, thanking me for staying with her boys. I was surprised when it came time for presents and she pushed one into my hands with a small wave, like it was nothing.

I tore the paper open alongside everyone else and couldn’t help but break into a smile, my heart warming. Molly had no idea that I was coming until after the attack on her husband. To think that she had sat next to Arthur’s bedside and knitted this for me so I had a present to open on Christmas touched me deeply.

I ran my hands over the fabric of the hat, a deep green and blue. It had extra insolation on the inside to ensure my ears were kept warm.

I caught Molly’s eyes, and she smiled warmly, pointing at it. “For when you’re out in the cold looking after all of those creatures.”

I smiled, pressing it to my heart, and her smile only grew. “Of course, thank you so much Mrs. Weasley. It’s perfect.”

She winked, waving me off again. “Oh, it’s nothing dear.”

Fred got up as I was admiring my new hat, feeling the fuzziness of the material. I had never been given anything homemade before- my parents weren’t necessarily crafty. I just knew that this would be my new staple to wear to Hagrid’s hut for the remainder of winter.

Fred slid two presents in front of me, wrapped pathetically. He pulled out the chair across from me, instead of sitting next to me, and sat down with a smile. He nodded, encouraging me to open them.

“That one’s from me,” George said from beside me, poking the orange one.

“Wait,” I said, reaching down to my bag, I pulled out the two identical gifts that I had prepared for them. I handed one to Fred and one to George, feeling the eyes of the others on us. “You first.”

Fred rolled his eyes, but George immediately tore into his. They opened them quickly, with a rush of child-like excitement, and then the room went quiet. They stared at it, Fred’s hands tracing the letters that I had carved and painted on the wooden plaque. His eyes flickered up to mine, but his expression was unreadable.

I glanced at George. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he stared at his own gift with amazement.

“It’s nothing big,” I said softly, trying to gage their reactions. “And I know nothing is set in stone and you haven’t decided on a name but its-.”

‘-Wicked,” the both said quietly.

I paused, breaking into a satisfied smile. Ron craned his neck to see Fred’s gift, so Fred turned the wooden sign to show the rest of the table. His eyes locked onto me, a genuine look of gratitude seeping from him.

I nodded, understanding.

“Now what’s that?” Molly asked, throwing the dish cloth over her shoulder. “Weasley’s Wicked Wizard Tricks?”

I flushed, knowing Molly didn’t quite know the details of their plans yet, but she knew the genius of her sons. It was quite obvious that they were not going to have a typical career after school. They were destined to invent, to create, to paint the sky with lights of colors for other kids like they had for me in third year.

“Potential name for a company,” I shrugged, and she glanced at her sons curiously.

George reached for my shoulders, pulling me into his side in a tight hug. “It’s brilliant, Aurs.”

Fred was still gazing at his with adoration, shaking his head in disbelief.

I hoped that this gesture was enough to tell them that I believed in anything and everything they did, whatever it was. There was no doubt in my mind that they would be incredibly successful.

“Has a nice ring to it,” Arthur smiled at me.

I glanced at Harry, who seemed just as excited as the twins as they looked at the purple, blue, and orange decorated sign. Sure, it would just sit by their beds at school for the next little bit, but it was a promise to everyone at this table of what was to come.

“Go on, open yours,” George said gently, nudging his gift toward me. He kept his hands around locked around the sign.

I sucked in a breath, grateful that the conversations around us had resumed to an extent and nobody but the twins were really paying attention to us.

I tore open the orange paper and let out a little squeal of delight, my jaw dropping. I swatted George lightly, unable to contain my laughter as I stared at his gift. It was an Arpo-scope, used to detect heartbeats of creatures that had a large body mass. It was used, surely, because these were _extremely_ expensive. But it was green, my favorite color, and he had even carved my initials along the base.

“This is amazing!” I shouted, suddenly feeling guilty for _making_ their gifts. I had no idea where he got this, or even got the idea, but this meant the world and more.

They believed in me too.

George beamed at me, proudly. “Yeah?”

“George,” I said, reaching for him. I hugged him tightly. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

“Mine next, come on,” Fred joked, he placed his sign down and leaned on top of it as I reached for his gift.

I pulled the blue bow that he had wrapped tightly around it, my heart suddenly picking up in my chest. I was still _so_ thrilled about the Arpo-scope that I hadn’t allowed myself a second to think about the possibilities of what Fred had gotten me. I pulled off the last pieces of paper to reveal a small black box.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him, but Fred just nodded for me to continue.

Ginny and Hermione had completely turned their attention to us, their chins on top of their hands as they fought for the first look.

I gently pulled the lid off of the box and saw a silver chain and small oval pendant. My heart stopped as I lifted the necklace up for a closer look. The way the overhead lights hit the liquid glitter in the pendant stopped my heart completely. The orange twinkle as I moved the jewelry around was deeply familiar, and overwhelmingly special to me.

I opened my mouth, my eyes widening. I slowly looked across the table to Fred, who was smiling lightly at me- nervous himself.

“Freddie,” I whispered- and my voice cracked. I shook my head, tears sprouting behind my eyes. “Is this…-?”

“Fairy dust,” he said softly with a gentle nod- confirming what I already knew. My heart ached suddenly, overwhelmed. “I took it that day from Hagrid’s hut. Now you can keep the first fairy dust that you were given with you forever.”

“Damn,” George whistled lightly, leaning back. He was just as impressed.

My eyes watered, and I became very aware that the table had grown silent. This was _the_ gift, the most amazing and thoughtful thing that I had ever been given in my life. I was utterly overwhelmed by the rush of love and happiness that I felt staring at its beauty.

“Th-,” I started, my voice cracking again. I let out a nervous laugh and shook my head again, composing myself. I glanced up at Fred, his face blurry through my tears, and quickly wiped one off of my cheek as it escaped. “Thank you, Freddie. This… this is a treasure.”

I felt his eyes on me as I looked back to my necklace, where my fiery little favorite had gifted me the dust that I’d forever wear near my heart. I wanted to meet Fred’s eyes, he needed to know just how grateful I was for this, but that familiar look of tenderness and love he was wearing would leave me unhinged.

“You’re absolutely welcome,” Fred said, and the gentleness in his voice brought on a fresh wave of tears.

I wiped my eyes again quickly, stifling an uncomfortable laugh. George patted my knee under the table, gently nudging me with his shoulder.

I wish we didn’t have an audience; it would be much easier to express my feelings and thank them the way I wanted to.

“Excuse me,” I said quickly, standing up from the table. The vulnerability that I was feeling at the moment was pushing me to run and hide.

“Aylia-,” George started, pushing himself up to go with me.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit. “I’m okay, just overwhelmed. They were very nice gifts. I’ll be right back.”

Fred watched me go, his hands still locked on the sign I had given him. His brow was furrowed, as if trying to understand if he had horribly messed up. He hadn’t, of course, he had done everything perfectly.

I just left the kitchen when Ginny’s voice hit my ears.

“And you’re snogging _Angelina,_ you idiot?”

I quickly shut the bathroom door, pressing myself against it. I wiped my face vigorously, desperate to stop the tears. I sucked in a loud, shaky, overwhelmed breath.

I was so in love with him that it was now destroying me. The way he knew me inside and out was getting hard to stomach as we sat across from each other as friends. I hated myself for not being able to smile and be grateful for such a _beautiful_ gesture, just because my stupid heart was making it impossible.

I ripped one of the dark hand towels off of the wall and quickly wiped my face. God, _why_ did Ginny have to say that as I left? The sting only worsened with the reminder of Fred’s lips on Angelina’s.

I pictured Fred, quickly scooping up the fairy dust that I had put on top of the trunk, consumed by the idea that he would have to do _something_ with it so that I could keep it forever. I hadn’t even thought about how much keeping it would mean to me, but he had.

I took in another deep, shaky breath, when the door swung open. I had forgotten to lock it behind me.

Jumping back, I clutched my chest. Fred stormed in shutting the door behind him and locking it quickly. He stared at me with determination, as though he had a novel of things that he wanted to say and he was giving me one second to put a stop to it before he could change his mind.

“Fred!” I gasped quietly, angry. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

I didn’t even have time to care about him seeing me cry, or about the fact that his parents were outside of that door and could be wondering why he had locked us in a bathroom together.

Fred frowned, his eyes darkening as he debated over what to say. “I am not dating Angelina.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the use of her name. “What?”

He stared at me, wanting the message to sink in. “I need you to know that I am not with Angelina.”

I let out a bitter laugh, deflecting as I always did when I was backed into a corner. My heart leapt up as his eyes burned into me. This was something he meant with the entirety of his being.

“Okay?” I said, but it even sounded weak to my own ears. What did he want me to do with this information?

He nodded, licking his lips quickly, “Good.”

He stormed toward me with the same fierceness he had exuded as he burst into the bathroom. He didn’t stop until he reached me, cupping my face in his hands and he kissed me deeply. Time stopped as my eyes fluttered closed, and all of my senses seemed to scream out in bliss, as though thousands of fairies were dropping dust all around us. 

I reached for him, like if I didn’t, he would disappear. I buried my hands in the fabric of his shirt, desperate for him, no longer caring that his family was on the other side of that door. It was him and I, here in this moment, and nobody else in the world mattered.

Fred’s rough hand slid from my cheeks to the back of my hair, but his lips never left mine, not even for a second. His lips consumed me until they were all I could think about, silencing my thoughts, my fears, my pain.

My heart could explode. This was it. I was home.

When he pulled away, I let out a sharp breath, stunned. I blinked, forcing myself back to reality. It hadn’t been a mistake, Fred was standing in front of me, breathless and wonderful, and he had kissed me.

He shook his head, frustrated, but his eyes were still gentle. “I didn’t know.”

I watched him carefully. “How would you?”

“You should have told me,” he whispered, reaching for me again. His finger traced my jaw, landing on my chin so he could tilt my head up to look at him. “You bloody idiot, why didn’t you just tell me?”

“You were kissing Angelina,” I said lamely, with a shrug.

Fred’s eyes melted into mine, and I could see his mistakes hitting him like a hard slap to the face.

“Not a candle to you, darling. Never was.” he whispered, mocking a gentle punch to my cheek. I reached up, gently wrapping my hands around his fist, and leaned into his touch.

I felt that flutter deep in my tummy as he drank me in with the same love I had felt every time I looked at him. There was no mistaking it. Other guys, they may have looked at me like I was the only woman in the room, but Fred looked at me like I was the only woman in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giddy.
> 
> It feels like it has taken forever to get to this point- 30 whole chapters! We got here!!! 
> 
> I am SO sorry this is such a long chapter, but I couldn't figure out a logical place to break it up for you guys.
> 
> I can't wait for your thoughts on Chapter 30! Even you Draylia fans. 
> 
> Thank you for the love, the kudos, the comments, and the bookmarks! Xo


	31. 31. The Post-Kiss Clarity

“We have to leave this bathroom,” I whispered, stepping away from Fred.

He nodded, and he was reading my face- an understanding growing between us that this fleeting moment did not change anything. A kiss didn’t have the power to erase anything from either of our pasts, and there was a lot that hadn’t been said.

“Well let’s go to my room then, to talk,” he said, reaching for my hand.

“Fred,” I said quietly, looking up at him- hoping he’d understand my predicament.

He could sense something was off. The initial kiss had been wonderful, earth-shattering even, but at the end of it we were still locked in a bathroom at a family event, and he had just been kissing Angelina before the holidays. The post-kiss clarity had given me more anxiety than the pre-kiss confusion.

“Please Aylia,” he whispered, squeezing my hand to plead with me. “I can’t sit across from you all night as if this never happened. I can tell you’re pulling away.”

“A few minutes, then,” I nodded, and his eyes brightened with hope. He guided us out of the bathroom, letting go of my hand to lead me by the small of my back. As though he could read my mind, he left the bedroom door open as we entered- just so Molly wouldn’t have to worry.

I sat on one side of his bed, and he sat on the other, a drastically different portrait from the two people that were just snogging in the bathroom.

“I’m confused,” I admitted finally, glancing over to him.

He nodded, and he was sitting more rigidly than I’d ever seen him- scared moving a muscle would be the wrong move.

“I understand,” he said weakly. “About what?”

“Your feelings,” I said bluntly, and when he gave a curt nod, I added, “And Angelina.”

He turned to me, and I saw the restlessness behind his eyes. There was a desperation to explain himself, “That one is a bit easier to explain. I assure you; George is going to tell you all about it, but I owe it to you to explain.”

I huffed, “And you owe it to her.”

He shook his head, his lips curling into a playful smile- as though he knew something that I didn’t. “No, not her. She’s expecting this.”

I stared at him, confused. I found it hard to believe that the girl he was snogging, girlfriend or not, was going to understand that Fred had taken it upon himself to kiss his best friend over the Christmas break. I remembered the mistletoe, the night of Arthur’s attack, her flirty little smile as she looked at him. Plus, it was _me,_ her and I had history, she wasn’t going to be pleased.

“Angelina and I came to a stupid agreement during the first week of term. She was going to be focusing on school and I wasn’t seeing anybody. We kind of…,” his eyes scanned my face with uncertainty- worried about going too far and scaring me away. “We had started talking one night. It was a laugh, talking about how bad we had been for each other. It broke the ice to being friendly again. I don’t know who suggested it, but we made a pact, a… physical pact, until we graduated or either of us found someone.”

“A pact?” I whispered.

He nodded, watching me carefully. “Like if we’re ever bored, or drunk, or… whatever, we could go to each other, no strings attached.”

My eyes flickered to my hands, feeling an ache but also relief. I hated thinking about him being physical with anyone, even though I’d run that scenario over in my head for the past few months, but it was an astounding relief to hear that they were just fooling around, and neither of us had just stabbed her in the back in that bathroom.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that often,” Fred whispered, reaching for my hand after the silence had stretched between us. “A few times, and some innocent flirting. I think we both felt a bit weird about it. The mistletoe thing, which I _am_ sorry about, was just as innocent. She’s been snogging Reggie in between and I’ve… well, I’ve been pining after you, I guess.”

I turned my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. He seemed to relax because I wasn’t pushing him away any longer. It was hard to be so pathetically in love with someone and consider that another girl might not feel the same way, and would be able to separate the feelings from the physical.

“George knew?” I asked, staring at our hands.

Fred nodded. “He wanted me to make it clear to you after our little spat that this wasn’t a relationship thing, but I didn’t see why I had to. I was a prick and refused to let him tell you because I thought you were upset out of spite,” he said. “Just because you didn’t like her. Petty, I know.”

“Very,” I murmured.

Fred sat up then, scooting over to sit closely beside me. He took his hand out of mine and placed it on my back, brushing his thumb against the lower part of my shirt. I wanted to melt into him, I did, but I still felt a sense of defensiveness that I couldn’t explain- the need to protect my own heart.

“She helped me with the necklace,” Fred admitted, and it sounded like it pained him to tell me it wasn’t all of his idea. “I knew what I wanted, but had no idea how to do it. She found the shop to make the jewelry and everything. I know it might sound weird, Aylia, but we were both very clear that this was anything but exclusive. She’s told me to go for it with you hundreds of times, but I never thought you felt that way about me.”

I let out another breath and thought about Zonko’s, when Fred and I had been attached at the hip, drunkenly so. Angelina had not been bothered in the slightest. I had wondered why, since the two of us were never known for biting our tongues, but she was always just watching curiously without reaction, intrigued.

It’s because she knew. She knew how I felt and couldn’t understand that Fred couldn’t see it. She knew and she was letting it happen. She was helping a friend.

“Friends with benefits?” I asked lamely, looking at him.

He nodded, his face serious, scared to hurt me. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, finally leaning into him. “Don’t apologize for being honest”

“I just don’t want you to think I’d hurt you, or her, like that. I know you might not understand, but she isn’t going to care in the slightest,” Fred admitted, his grip tightening around me. He rested his head against mine, kissing my temple. “And I wish I could have given you a better first kiss than the bathroom of headquarters. Just… watching you open that gift. I knew how I felt, I couldn’t wait.”

I looked up at him, our faces inches apart. He looked so sad, and I wished I could change that, but the way it happened was the way it happened. This year was so full of uncertainties and darkness, warnings that life is too short, that I couldn’t fault him for not being able to wait for the perfect time to tell me, or to kiss me. 

A thought crossed my mind then, and I turned to him quickly, pulling out of his grasp. He stared at me with a frozen fright, like he had said something wrong and was not sure what. I pointed a finger at him.

“What did Ginny say during the game? George was going to tell me but never did.”

Fred let out a little laugh, shaking his head.

“Ginny was trying to get me to admit me and Angelina’s arrangement in front of you, I guess the Gryffindor girls have been talking,” he rolled his eyes, as though this was typical. “When you got up and left, she said it was obvious we were into each other. I didn’t buy it- she doesn’t know you well enough to know that.”

I raised an eyebrow, and he gave a small shrug, like he had been wrong.

“But after I gave you that necklace, George got pissed off. Told me how you felt, how you thought me and Angelina were back together. I came to see you straight away.”

“He said it in front of everyone?” I snapped, pulling back.

Fred smirked, pulling me tightly back to his chest. “Yes, but give the bloke a break. He’s been harboring all of our secrets for months.”

I stared at him, bewildered. I was astonished how brutally lines could blur without all of the right information. I would not have had an inkling that he felt the same as I did, and I had just assumed he and Angelina were together based on the few moments I’d seen them together. I’d never asked anyone, not even George.

It hurt me to think that we could have found each other months ago if we just _talked._ But isn’t that the trend with teenage relationships, talking is our worst bloody nightmare.

“Hey,” Fred whispered, gently turning my face to him. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

I leaned in, gently pecking his lips.

“I’ll re-do that first kiss,” he promised quietly, against my mouth. He kissed me softly again. “No big, romantic snogs until then. I’m going to wipe your memory of snogging you in a bathroom and show you that I am a bloody prince.”

We rejoined the table, all eyes on us as we walked in. I took my seat next to George again, and Fred ruffled Ginny’s hair as he passed her, I’d like to think as a thank-you. Fred pulled out his chair and dragged it close to me, so that he could place his arm around the back of mine, and brush his fingers against the nape of my neck every few minutes.

George stared at us, a bored and tired look in his eyes. “Took you bloody long enough.”

Fred and I glanced at him, smiling despite ourselves.

He stared at us- desperate for his next message to sink in. “If either of you ask me to keep something from the other again, I will refuse with pleasure.”

Fred stifled a laugh, “I’d assume you owe your loyalty to your twin.”

“Hardly,” George muttered.

I caught Ginny’s eyes, locked on us with a tiny and satisfied smile. She turned away, back to her conversation with Hermione, as though her work was done.

I ran my fingers over the pendant, thinking about all of the people who nudged us toward each other: Angelina, George, Ginny. It seemed as though the universe had been working in some chaotic method to get us together, even when neither of us thought it was a possibility, knowing that eventually we would wind up right here- Fred’s hands on my skin, surrounded by the people we loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know I appreciate all of your comments, even the ones who disagree with the plot/actions of characters. I will also never scold Criticisms, it's very welcome here. 
> 
> I'm posting this chapter earlier than intended because of your concerns about the last chaper- I know this provides a bit more clarity to Fred/Angelina. You can also look through the comments to see how I had intended to leave 'bread crumbs' of the pair of them having a bit of a different agreement. 
> 
> Thank you for always being honest! I am so appreciative of it.


	32. 32. The Return

The last night of Christmas break was a complicated entanglement of feelings. It was hard, exploring this new relationship with Fred, while also having little to no privacy. We didn’t exactly tell Molly or Arthur, but Molly seemed to keep an eye on the pair of us, looking for signs of what she thought had happened.

Fred had wanted me to stay with him at night, George had even offered to sleep on the couch, but I couldn’t possibly disrespect his parents or Sirius like that this soon. That meant that there was a lot of tension between the pair of us that we were desperate to explore, but forced to ignore. I felt fourteen again, thinking with my heart instead of my brain.

It led to moments of hidden intimacy; moments that made me feel like a different, younger version myself. I’d never been this giddy with affection, dying to have my hands all over somebody, but Fred had changed that. It happened whenever we had the chance, like when I had gone to retrieve my wand from the bedroom, and I had turned around only to come face-to-face with him. I was then pressed against the wall by his hands on my hips, his smile making those butterflies erupt in my stomach as he kissed me, always just once- because he was keeping his promise.

I’d reach for him, desperately, my hands gliding down his neck as I arched into him. He’d look pained, just for a moment, like he had to keep convincing himself to keep his word, but all of his instincts were screaming at him to give me what I wanted. Then, much to my dismay, he’d back away and just take my hand.

“Not until our second-first kiss,” he’d say, enjoying the pain that flooded through me.

It was another reason that I wouldn’t sleep in their room. Sleeping next to him in bed, half-clothed, our hands and our mouths so close- it would force him to break this promise that he desperately wanted to keep. Fred was good in these small moments, quick kisses that weren’t _quite_ private, but I knew if we were under the blankets and absorbed in each other—he’d cave without a second thought.

I had to have self-control. 

And then we were packing our things, getting prepared to return to school. I relished in the moments the group of us would just hang out and talk, knowing that it was a bit different at school, where I had little time to spend hanging out with Ron or Harry, even Ginny. At least we had the DA to return to, but this little perfect bubble would burst the second that we left.

I stood in front of the mirror in the twins’ room, my presents and their presents laying on top of the chest of drawers. I smiled, touching the pendant of the necklace that I had not yet put on. The dust from my favorite fairy, who I had patiently waited for, given to me by the boy who had my heart, who I had also waited for.

“You know it’s meant for you to wear, right?” Fred asked, folding one of his jumpers and tossing it on the top of his trunk.

I smiled, watching the way the glitter fluttered downward as I lifted the box. “But then I can’t see it as often.”

Fred smiled, walking up behind me in the mirror. He reached forward, his fingers pulling back my hair to push it over my shoulder. I felt a shudder as his fingertips grazed my collar bone. He met my eyes through the mirror, his fingers slowing on my skin.

“But this way, you’ll feel it. Right there, next to that heart of yours,” Fred whispered.

He reached forward, and I watched him carefully through the mirror as he gently took the necklace out of the box and unclasped it, pulling it around my neck. He clasped it together, and it fell just above my chest.

We both looked at it, a wonderment in our eyes. It meant so much to both of us, I could see that as Fred’s eyes locked onto the orange twinkling pendant. We fixed our friendship beside this fairy dust, and then we kissed because of this fairy dust. This piece of jewelry was a focal point of our relationship.

My hand reached for it, holding in my fingers, my eyes sliding up to meet Fred’s.

He was already watching me, a small smile on his lips. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

I leaned back into him, and his hands wound around my waist, pressing a kiss to my temple. I felt the rush of nerves hearing Fred talk to me in this way, so different than friends would. I’ve also never been this gushy, desperate to be touched. 

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

Fred turned me around by my hips, eyes dark and desperate. My heart started to pick up as the butterflies soared around my belly. I slowly wound my arms around his neck.

He scanned my eyes- and it was obvious that he wanted to say something, though I wasn’t sure what could make this moment any better. Instead, he just leaned in, kissing me softly in a gentle way that I’d never known Fred to be.

“Oi, come on,” George grumbled, walking into the room with a few clean ties. He glanced at us with a shake of his head as he passed us and went back to his packing. “This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, pressing my fingers to my lips as Fred let go.

“I’m not,” he heckled, laughing at the expense of his brother. He winked at me and turned back to his own bed, reaching for his last pair of socks.

I turned back to the mirror, unable to stop looking at the pendant laying against my chest. It was odd how a color I’d never loved made me feel so beautiful in my own skin. Orange was never a color I’d wear, or buy in jewelry, but it was everywhere in everything that I loved. Fred and George, their family, so warm and loving with heads of fiery orange hair, the fairy that I loved- orange and beautiful, the fall skies that I adored, orange. Orange, orange, orange.

I touched the pendant again gently. Orange.

~*~

We sat in our carriage, on our way back to school, exhausted from the hangover of the holidays but excited nonetheless. Getting back meant more lessons with Harry, more skills to possess that would help us beat the evil that had set itself upon Arthur. We needed to feel and become stronger, and that could only be done with Harry’s curriculum. The school surely wasn’t giving us that benefit.

Fred and I sat opposite each other, not too keen on being all over each other in such a public space. I’m glad he understood me in that way, not needing to force PDA in everyone’s faces to prove that I wanted to be with him. Our eyes kept finding each other though, in those tiny, quick moments. I’d look at him and smile, and then he’d smirk and refuse to break our stare. Eventually, I’d get flushed and look away. It was light and fun, which felt like a welcome change to combat the darkness.

Lee had caught on quickly, which made me wonder if he knew how we felt about each other like George had. He eventually just asked outright on the train, if we had gotten together over break, and Fred had just nodded in response. He didn’t seem surprised, just nodded happily to the pair of us and moved on.

This was our last ride back to Hogwarts. This was it. We wouldn’t ride on this train, or in one of these carriages to our school again. I looked at them all individually, robes hanging loosely off of them, making each other laugh with ease, and realized that I had been lucky to find them. I knew I’d miss these moments, where things were easy and innocent, and where the four of us just had each other and were completely fine with that.

It was when we were nearing the school, and the murmuring in the carriages and in the hall grew as people rushed back to their carts, that I innocently glanced out of the glass on the door. Through the window, my eyes grey eyes met his grey eyes, and my heart stilled in my chest as he passed with his stare set on me.

I had completely forgotten about that moment that Draco and I had shared before break. I had been consumed by Fred and by what happened with Arthur. Even though Fred and I weren’t sitting next to each other, we weren’t touching or kissing, I felt extremely exposed as Draco passed.

His eyes never left mine, and I couldn’t break our stare. Guilt crashed through me, knowing what he had wanted from me and how I had utilized it for my convenience when I was hurt. I was also being flooded with thoughts about if I owed it to Fred to tell him.

When Draco was out of sight, my eyes were still glued on the carriage doors. Did I owe him a conversation? Surely, that would be kind of me, but I _had_ been clear on where we stood. But he was younger, had trouble expressing himself, and had been all but clear on what he wanted and I had given it him. I had blurred the lines when I kissed him. I was not sure if it would do more good than bad by trying to explain that those lines could no longer be crossed.

I slumped in my seat, glancing back at Fred who was showing Lee these new enchanted fireworks that the twins were creating. Lee listened in wonder, nodding as Fred explained, his face consumed by an excited smile.

These were my people. This rowdy, rule-breaking, trouble making bunch. But we were good people. Kind people. People who cared about the feelings of other people.

I’d have to talk to Draco.


	33. 33. The Return of The Professor

It was only a couple of days into term when Lee had run up to me in the hallway, out of breath and clutching his chest. I paused, staring at him- that familiar rush of worry that something had happened to someone else that I loved coursing through me.

But then, as he slapped his hand on the wall to compose himself, he broke into a grin. “Hagrid’s back.”

I froze, clutching my books to my chest tightly. It was the news that I had been desperate for since he left me that note.

Lee nodded at me, as though he could read my mind- sucking in another desperate breath. 

“You’re sure?” I asked cautiously, though I think he knew me well enough to not joke about this particular subject.

He planted his hands on his hips, finally standing up straight. He nodded again, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, “Absolutely sure. Saw him leaving Dumbledore’s office ten minutes ago.”

“Ten minutes?” I asked eagerly, and I already wanted to take off and bolt to Hagrid’s hut. It was not Hogwarts, for me at least, without Hagrid here. I needed to know where he had gone, and why he had left so suddenly, but most importantly, I just really needed to see him.

Lee grinned and nodded. He read my mind with ease, “You got class?”

I shrugged, class was the last thing on my mind now, “Yeah, but I’ll skip it. You?”

“Same, let’s go.”

We quickly separated to grab our outer gear from the dorms, and we met back at the castle doors. We were risking another one of Umbridge’s detentions, the potential of new words being etched into our skin, but after not seeing Hagrid for weeks and worrying about whatever he was doing, and if he was okay, I’d happily take a detention.

Hagrid wasn’t outside like I had expected him to be, which made me wonder if he’d been back for longer than I realized. The creatures looked tended to, and there was fresh feed resting against the steps. He seemed to have found the time to get everything prepared for returning to work. The smoke protruding from the chimney of his hut was a happy and welcome sight, something I hadn’t realized would mean so much to me until I saw it.

He was back.

Lee and I bounced up the steps to Hagrid’s hut and knocked lightly on the door. Fang immediately started barking, announcing our arrival.

“Hush, hush!” Hagrid bellowed, and I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my face as I heard his deep, warm voice. His footsteps approached the door slowly, and when he threw it open and saw me standing there, he broke into a huge toothy smile. “Aylia! I’ve been wonderin’ when you’d come by. Come in, come in. Oh, hi there, Lee.”

“Hello Hagrid,” Lee said cheerily as we stepped inside. He shut the door quietly behind us, kicking the snow off of his shoes and onto the mat by Hagrid’s door.

Hagrid turned back to the sink and began to fill the kettle for tea. When he turned back to us, no longer hidden by the mesh screen on the door, both my face and heart dropped all of the way to my toes at the same time.

Hagrid’s face was bruised, cut, and swollen. The wounds looked old- sure, but whatever had happened to him had clearly been very painful.

“Hagrid,” I gasped, and he started- as though he wasn’t sure what was wrong. Then he relaxed, gesturing to his face with a small nod of understanding.

“Ah- yes, I’m fine,” he let out a deep and throaty laugh. “Looks at lot worse than it is, ‘ye see?”

“What happened?” I asked, and Fang came to my side, letting out a low whine. I dropped my hand to scratch his head gently, and he leaned up to my touch.

It was obvious as Hagrid looked back and forth between Lee and I that he was debating on how much information he could give us.

He sighed, “I was on task fer Dumbledore. It got a bit tricky.”

I stared at him, and Lee went to his knees to give Fang the attention he desired. He ruffled up Fang’s jowls, laughing as drool fell onto his mittens.

“What kind of task?”

“Arg,” Hagrid waved me off, turning back to the kettle despite the fact that it hadn’t yet whistled. “Nothing ‘ye kids should have ‘te worry about. You should be focusin’ on yer grades in yer final year.”

Lee and I glanced at each other, and by his expression, I could tell that he felt just as concerned as I did. What sort of task would Dumbledore be sending Hagrid to do, in which Hagrid would come home bloodied and bruised and return immediately back to work? After what happened with Arthur, everything seemed to present itself as a potential threat.

“Hagrid,” I repeated, stepping toward him. This time he could hear my worry.

Hagrid sighed, his back still to the both of us. He slowly glanced over his shoulder, recognizing the concern in my eyes, and I imagine he saw a daughter of sorts standing in front of him with a face full of worry. I was already concerned about leaving him on his own next year, I didn’t want to worry about him becoming Dumbledore’s martyr.

“You do look a bit beaten to shit, sir,” Lee said- smiling gently as he stroked Fang’s fur.

“Right, right,” Hagrid grumbled, grabbing for the kettle that had finally started to boil. He turned to it, filling three glasses with a disappointed shake of the head. “Sit at the table then, might as well keep ‘ye kids warm, but this stays between us of course.”

As the three of us took our seats, Hagrid placed our mugs full of tea down in front of us. Hagrid must know ‘between us’ included Fred and George as well. It was always the four of us, never just two, and whatever he told us was surely going to be passed along to our counterparts. I wondered if I should clarify that before allowing Hagrid to continue- so he knew that he could always trust me- even with things this serious.

Lee didn’t seem bothered, he eagerly reached for his tea, scooping three heaping spoonsful of sugar into the water. He pulled the large mug toward him, warming his palms up against the outside of it.

“I guess I already told ‘Arry, Hermione and Ron too,” Hagrid grumbled, plopping himself down onto his own chair. The table teetered toward him with his force. His legs barely fit underneath. He looked at us carefully, “Dumbledore sent me to visit the giants.”

My eyes widened and I stared at him in awe, “Giants?”

He nodded once.

“Wicked,” Lee whispered, leaning back in his chair.

I felt an odd tension between my wonderment about the giants, wanting to know every single detail about them, and wanting to stick to Hagrid’s story, so that I could understand what he had been doing and what these giants had put him through.

“They hit you?” I asked quietly, questioning the bumps and bruises on his face again.

Hagrid shook his head briskly, “No, not them. But I was there ‘te convince them ‘te join the cause, be on our side if You-Know-Who is building his army back up, ‘ye see.”

I stared at him, feeling that familiar panic in my chest. Arthur, Cedric, and now a badly beaten Hagrid. People were going to continue getting hurt, and it was going to become more unavoidable. There wasn’t always going to be professors, Aurors, or friends to protect us. Hagrid had been sent on a mission by Dumbledore himself and walked right into danger.

“So was it…,” Lee trailed off, too afraid to say what he was thinking.

“Death Eaters,” Hagrid said quietly, nodding.

I swallowed, immediately wondering just how many supporters Voldemort had in comparison to Dumbledore. Surely, with him being gone so long he couldn’t have been building an army bigger than those who oppose him, right? His most loyal followers could be doing the leg work for him, but the better chunk of them were in Azkaban. Did he have enough manpower to be convincing giants to take his side over Dumbledore?

“Were there a lot of them?” I asked.

Hagrid shrugged, “Didn’t really see much, but enough to do this.”

I watched sadly as he gestured to his face.

“What about the giants, did they seem privy to join us?” I added.

Hagrid’s eyes darkened then- worry quickly consuming his face. He leaned toward me, across the table, pointing a big finger directly at me, “Now listen, Aylia. There is no ‘us.’ Yer just a kid, and ‘ye have no business worrying about Dumbledore’s business.”

Lee and I looked at each other sideways, both surely thinking about Dumbledore’s Army and what we were trying to accomplish under the noses of the professors. I wasn’t sure if Harry had told Hagrid about it, but I wasn’t willing to risk that he had and spill the beans to prove a point. The adults were doing the dirty work, in the field and facing giants, we just had to ensure we were prepared to help if it came to that.

“Right,” I said slowly, forcing a small, tense smile.

“Anyway,” Hagrid sighed, leaning back in his chair. He warmed again. “Thank ‘ye for takin’ care of all the critters while I was away. I knew I could count on ‘ye.”

“Speaking of that,” I said, wrapping my hand around the handle of my large mug. “How are my fairies?”

Hagrid smiled, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he did. “They’ll be back by the week’s end. Don’t ‘ye worry your head, dear.”

~*~

Lee and I rushed back into the school to fill Fred and George in about what Dumbledore had told us. They had seemed as shocked as we were that Dumbledore was sending people out to recruit for an opposition. Surely, it was Order business, and the Aurors were probably out doing the same- but it was jarring to think that he was desperate enough to use Professors during the school months when they should be at Hogwarts. Just how outnumbered were we?

I was itching to get back into the Room of Requirement. After everything with Arthur, and now Hagrid, I was starting to feel _very_ unprepared for the fight that was brewing under the surface. I could duel another student and probably win, but how far would that get me against Death Eaters and giants?

Fred sensed my worry fairly quickly. He reached over on the couch of the common room, wrapping his fingers gently around the nape of my neck.

I glanced at him, but he was still talking to George and Lee with the entirety of his focus. His thumb brushed against the skin of my neck and I let out a small breath of relief, feeling some form of ease at his touch.

“How was he?” George asked from the couch opposite, tossing one of the small decorative pillows up in the air, catching it as it came back down.

I glanced up at him- confused, my mind finally coming back to the conversation.

“Hagrid,” he said.

I shrugged. “He seemed fine, but he didn’t look it. He really took a beating. I just wish he knew which Death Eaters it had been, and how many, that way Dumbledore could have gotten something out of it.”

Fred scoffed, his fingers still giving me butterflies against my skin. “Malfoy had to have been one, that’s a guarantee.”

“Absolutely,” Lee said with a confident nod.

I can’t say it hadn’t crossed my mind. Lucius had been one of my first thoughts when Hagrid had said it had been Death Eaters that attacked him, but I figured he would have recognized him immediately. It just seemed so improbable that Lucius _wasn’t_ involved, especially after his involvement with all of the incidents over the last few years.

It also made me worry that Lucius might have had a hand in what happened to Arthur. I couldn’t stomach the fact that I would have been kissing his son just hours after Lucius partook in almost killing Fred’s father.

Fred gave my neck a light squeeze, forcing my attention back to the conversation again.

I glanced over at him.

“Alright?” he asked.

I had to stop bottling everything up. If I had learned anything from the Fall term, it was that honesty was the route that I had to start taking instead of feeling what I was feeling all alone. I didn’t trust my behavior when I did that. I kissed fifth year arseholes and stopped talking to my friends when I did that. 

“Worried,” I admitted quietly.

Fred nodded, sweeping his hand from my neck to my cheek, brushing his thumb against my jaw with a gentleness that seemed to soothe me deep in my heart.

“It’s getting close to curfew,” I said, glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantle. I had already risked my luck earlier today by skipping class, being out past curfew would be pushing it. “Walk me?”

Fred smiled, winking lightly. “Of course, darling.”

Fred and I said goodnight to George and Lee and entered the quiet hallway with a weary caution. Those first few steps after leaving their common room without the Marauder’s Map were always risky, never knowing if somebody was about to come around the corner and catch us mid-crime. Plus everything just seemed so heightened this term, like even breathing was disobeying. 

As soon as we were safe, and far enough away from the Fat Lady that we didn’t have to be cautious, Fred snaked his arm around my shoulders loosely.

“I know you’re worried about Hagrid, but he’s half-giant himself. He’ll be just fine,” Fred said, curiously watching a group of Gryffindor first-years scurry by, desperate to get back to the common room on time.

“I know,” I said, even though I _was_ still worried about Hagrid. “There’s just so much to worry about lately. There’s so much darkness, Fred. I’m starting to feel a bit in over my head.”

“You?” Fred scoffed, shaking me lightly. “You can hex any of us to death if you wanted to. Plus, you’re an unstoppable nightmare when you’re mad. You’d be able to take care of yourself out there.”

I smiled, rolling my eyes. But that was what was concerning me. Soon, we _would_ be ‘out there.’ In a few short months, the walls of Hogwarts wouldn’t be here to protect me. I wouldn’t have extremely powerful and skilled professors at my disposal, with Dumbledore always just a few floors away. It would just be me on my own, with my muggle family to worry about.

“Plus, I’d like to think I’m pretty tough,” Fred puffed out his chest- trying to lighten the mood. “I’d take care of you as well.”

I looked up at him with a bemused grin, and he beamed down at me- happy to ease my worry. The thought of us taking care of each other out there _did_ make me feel a bit better. I know I’d go to great lengths to protect him, and I’d like to think he felt the same.

As we reached the dungeons, I turned to him. “Remember, you can’t tell anyone what Lee and I told you. Hagrid made us swear.”

“Got it,” Fred nodded shortly. “Not a word.”

“Good,” I nodded up at him. “Goodnight, Freddie.”

“Not quite,” he said, reaching for my shirt. He pulled me toward him slowly, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. “That’s not how we say goodnight now, is it?”

I blinked up at him, innocently- wanting this teasing game to be as difficult for him as it was becoming for me. I frowned at him- pretending not to get the joke. “Not sure what you mean, Weasley. We’re mates.”

He let out a sarcastic laugh as he leaned toward me, his lips hovering just inches from mine. He didn’t kiss me, not yet. “Mm, better get going to bed then, _mate.”_

I nodded, the fluttering in my tummy making me feel winded, _dizzy_. My eyes fluttered to his lips.

“I’d like for you to come with me. To bed, that is, if you want. As mates, of course,” I whispered.

He paused, his smile faltering- surprised by my words. He groaned under his breath as he slowly closed the gap to kiss my lips, “That’s not fair.”

I leaned up to kiss him again, forgetting about our little game. He kissed me back, slowly, his grip loosening on my shirt as I leaned up into him. I tried to force more, make him give me that ground breaking kiss that I knew he could, since we were alone in an empty hallway and I had gone days without a moment with just him and I.

He pulled back, smirking at my frustration. “I need to prove to you that I’m a prince, remember?”

“I’m starting to regret-,” I started, but didn’t get a chance to finish my rebuttal. My plan to negotiate myself out of this verbal contract was cut short.

Fred’s eyes looked past me, darkening almost immediately. He pulled me toward him, hovering over me like a shield.

“Oi mate, take your hands out of your pants and finish that off in bed,” Fred’s voice was dark, threatening.

I glanced behind me, where Draco was standing. He watched us with the coldest look I had seen on his face in a long time. One hand was buried in his pocket, the other was wrapped around wand, as if he had considered hexing us. 

“It’s five past ten,” Draco said, his voice as smooth as stone. He walked toward the dungeons, forcing open the door and holding it open. “Ten points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

I rolled my eyes, but Fred just let out a bitter laugh and let go of my robes.

“Does that make your cock feel big, Malfoy?” He asked with a throaty cackle, turning to face him. Fred knew that he was the bigger guy, and he knew that he was stronger, and he surely knew that he had already kicked the shit out of Draco before and won.

Malfoy’s cold eyes just slid to me, but there was no air of recognition or warmth. “Inside, Aurora. Or shall we make it twenty?”

I met his stare for only a moment, but the thought of hashing this out here, with Fred as a witness, was enough to make me listen. I sighed, turning to Fred, who was wearing that challenging smirk that told me he was desperate for a fight. He wanted Malfoy to keep pushing.

“Goodnight Freddie,” I said softly, reaching to squeeze his hand.

“Night darling,” he grumbled, still watching Malfoy carefully.

I walked toward the common room door, which Malfoy was still holding open, and I glared at him as I approached. He looked satisfied, that pompous grin growing as I came closer to him and further from Fred.

“Go on then, Weasley,” he taunted, pushing. “Get to bed.”

Fred shrugged, standing firmly in place with no intention of budging. “I’ll wait until the lady is inside, thanks mate. Take away fifty points if you want, couldn’t really be bothered.”

I passed Draco, storming into the common room. He shut the door immediately behind us, not letting me turn to give Fred a final wave or goodbye. He cut off our communication immediately. It was a pissing contest to him, one that he thought he had just won.

“Ten points?” I snapped, turning to him.

He stood at the door, hands still in his pockets, his eyes still as cold as ice. It had hit a nerve, seeing me with Fred, and while I was regretful that I hadn’t gotten to explain it to him before he stumbled upon us, I was fuming that he reacted that way.

He could stop trying to act as though he cared about me, about my future, if he was going to try and sabotage everything that made me happy.

“I should have taken forty, just because you kissed that bloody idiot,” he sneered, and he walked toward me, his face sporting nothing but disgust and disappointment.

He came close, dangerously close, looking me up at down as though I was _not_ the person that he thought I had been just weeks ago. But I was. Of course, I was. The only difference was that now he had _seen_ me kissing Fred, when he had only just imagined it in the past.

“I meant to talk to you,” I said quietly, but I couldn’t shake my annoyance.

He shook his head, eyes burning into mine. He opened his mouth to say something- whether it was to tell me off or ask a question, I’d never know, because his fellow Inquisitor’s walked into the common room then, fresh off of their power trip of stealing points from other houses.

Draco glanced at them, and they faltered, watching us curiously.

“Curfew doesn’t apply to everyone, I see,” I said snidely, and Goyle broke into a proud grin.

Draco stepped back from me, putting distance between us, that coldness still visible behind his eyes. “A lot more work to do since you had Quail expelled.”


	34. 34. The Drunken Bliss

Draco and I didn’t talk that night. In fact, we didn’t talk for the next few days. It was clear where we stood, both bitter and pissed off, and with no desire to try and keep pretending that we were still friends. We saw each other often, in passing, and he liked to puff out his chest and make sure I saw his badge- like I thought that was _anything_ to be proud about.

It was odd having nothing to do but focus on school. We had yet to have another DA meeting, and with no creatures and no Quidditch, the only thing I could do was study or muck around. With all of the tension from Umbridge’s building rules, students were tending to avoid school outside of class hours. It was clear they were being exhausted by this tedious and unfulfilling year.

It meant that we spent a lot of time hanging out in the nooks and crannies of the school. It was too cold to go outside, and too risky to hang out in open areas with the potential of Umbridge stumbling upon us and finding a reason to punish us. That and the Inquisitor’s Squad, of course. They hated taking points from me, but they’d often do so to prove a point. They’d just ensure they took more from other houses.

So once again, Friday night was spent in the Gryffindor common room. They had quite literally put all of their efforts into revolting against the regime. They were having parties often, finding ways to busy themselves until our first DA meeting this weekend. Even the younger students, who really didn’t know a Hogwarts without Umbridge, seemed to be sick of the way Hogwarts was operating.

Selfishly, I liked that I was able to drink with Fred and sink into a drunken comfort, where I stopped caring about who was watching or what people thought of me. The liquid courage allowed me to admire him with no shame, engrossed by his presence, desperate for his attention. It was intoxicating, loving him.

Lee placed down a tray of shots at the table. We each reached for them immediately, downing them just as quickly. Lee immediately used the remaining liquor to fill all of our drinks to the brim.

My eyes were heavy, looking at Fred beside me with a drunken smile. He could feel my eyes, his smile growing as my hand creeped toward him and skimmed his back, up to his neck as he spoke. I curled my fingers in the back of his hair.

Without breaking conversation, he snaked his hand under my knee, pulling my legs onto his lap.

“Well, what do we have here?”

The group of us glanced up at the new voices, where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie stood with drunken smiles of their own. They all scurried to join us, Angelina taking a spot on the floor at the end of the coffee table, directly beside me.

Fred’s grip tightened on my legs, which was good, since my instinct was to toss them off of him and put a bit of distance between us.

Alicia and Katie shoved George over on the couch and sat next to him. Angelina nudged Lee playfully beside her, before resting her elbows on the coffee table as she leaned toward Fred and I.

Her perfectly glossed lips broke into an accusatory grin.

Fred shook his head with a roll of his eyes- as though he knew what was coming, and lifted his drink to his lips.

Angelina glanced at me instead, “I always knew this would happen. I just hoped it would be before you two were old and brittle and he couldn’t get it up anymore.”

I laughed under my breath, glancing at Fred. He met my eyes, that satisfied gleam in his eyes- he seemed happy that this moment was finally a reality.

“Then you knew before I did,” I admitted, taking a sip of my drink.

Angelina shrugged, but her eyes stayed kind. “It’s different when you’re in the thick of it, I guess. We were younger and dumber, and I was a bit of a twat and you were a bit of a lunatic, but I even saw it then.”

I actually let out a cackle of a laugh, not expecting such brutal honesty from someone who I had loathed in the past, but was growing to understand. She seemed equally pleased that I understood her place and could take her playful jabs.

“I tend to get out of line rather quickly,” I admitted with a laugh, agreeing to her perception of me.

She shrugged again, “Hell, he’s lucky. I’d want you on my side, too. You’re a force to be reckoned with, woman.”

I stared at her, my smile growing. She was radiant, she had a temper, and she was fiercely protective over what she wanted and who she loved. How had it taken me this long to realize how similar we were?

“Says the woman who carries her entire Quidditch team every season,” I said.

“Oi!” Fred protested, glaring at the pair of us. Angelina immediately burst out into giggles. “I change my mind. I don’t want this alliance.”

“We good, then?” she asked, ignoring Fred. She met my eyes again, bringing her bottle of whatever she was drinking to her lips.

I gave her a nod of solidarity, “We’re good.”

She looked at Fred, and then at me. “Perfect, now we can outdrink your boyfriend and make him take care of you.”

The party lasted hours, and it showed no intention of winding down. Lee seemed to have an endless supply of liquor, ensuring that our cups were always full. He got so drunk by midnight that he was trying to talk to that one girl he liked, but it was clear she couldn’t understand a word that he was saying. So, giving up on the attempt to flirt, he just smashed his lips on hers.

I watched, still wondering if he and Flo would have the chemistry he needed. I regretted not asking her and Bea to join, in that moment, because they’d be having the time of their lives right now and my friends would love them.

Fred’s hands slid up my legs as he, George, and Harry played a game with a random coin. George’s eyes were heavy, and he kept having to wipe his mouth with his sleeve, but he was still winning.

I watched Fred carefully, drunk and competitive. I stared at the lines on his face, the freckles kissing his skin. I admired the way his smile reached his eyes when he laughed, something that had forever been my favorite part of him. And his _hands._ The roughness of them as they slid atop my trousers made me wonder how they’d feel on my bare legs.

God, I was drunk.

God, I wanted him.

I hooked my legs over his and pulled myself up to his side. He immediately turned to me, his arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders, fingers wrapping around the back of my neck tightly- holding me to him.

“You’re go!” Harry shouted, mad at the distraction. He threw out his arm in protest.

“Give me a bloody minute,” Fred demanded, still looking at me. I stared at him, craving him- my eyes conveying everything that I wanted. He leaned forward, cautiously, and kissed me softly.

“Fred!” George yelled in frustration.

Fred turned to him, tossing the coin, not caring where it landed. It bounced off the table and onto the carpet, sending Harry to look for it. Fred looked back to me, scanning my eyes, begging me to say whatever was going through my head as I looked at him with such a deep need.

“Can we-?” I stared quietly.

“-Yes,” He said immediately, nearly knocking the bottle of Firewhiskey off of the table. He stood, pulling me to my feet with him.

“The game’s not over!” George protested, glaring at the pair of us.

Fred shrugged, waving him off. “I lose mate, carry on.”

Fred guided me away from our friends, and I had no idea where he planned to take me. The world, and everyone around us, blurred like they were just passing through my mind and were not rooted in reality.

Fred’s fingers locked around my wrist, firm, and then his hand slid down to intertwine our fingers.

Fred led me up the stairs, and I glanced down to the party, where nobody seemed to have noticed that we were heading up to the empty dorms. He pushed open the door slowly, and my heartbeat started to race, knowing that we were about to be in a room with just us for the first time in a very long time.

Throwing the door open to his own dorm, we were engulfed in darkness as I shut it behind us with my body, leaning against it. Fred was there quickly, searching for me with his hands, finding my waist. He slowly leaned down to kiss me deeply.

My mind whirled at the feeling.

_I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him._

The vulnerability I felt when he looked me, touched me, or kissed me- it was something I could not explain. Nobody else would ever make me feel this way. It was Fred.

His hands slid up to my chest, and then to my neck, tilting my head back so he could deepen the kiss.

Then, drunkenly, he pushed himself back. The sudden loss of his lips and his touch made me feel incredibly lonely. I reached for him in the dark.

“No!” He said with a deep laugh, “No, absolutely not.”

I stared at the outline of his body in the dark. “What?”

“I want this so bad, Aylia. _So_ bad,” he started, his voice laced with regret. “But I meant what I said. I’m going to re-do that kiss.”

“So then, let’s just not kiss,” I said with a shrug- and I meant it.

He let out a bitter laugh and found my face with his hands again, kissing me quickly. “Don’t say shit like that. I’m only human.”

“But-,” I pleaded.

“-No,” he whispered against my lips, slowly kissing me. He let out a sigh, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’m going to marry you one day, Aurora. I need to re-write the first chapter of our love story before we move on to the next.”

I smiled, reaching forward to pull him to me by his waist.

He thought he was going to marry me.

I slowly snaked my arms around his torso, pressing my face into his collarbone. He let out a relieved breath, like if I kept pushing- he would have caved, and this entire plan that he had would have been demolished. He wound his arms around my shoulders, kissing the top of my head.

“We’re really in this, aren’t we?” he asked aloud to the room.

I shut my eyes and nodded. “Deeply, I think.”

He reached for my curls, tangling his fingers in them. “Let’s not fuck it up.”

I leaned back, starting to see the outline of his face as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I touched his cheek, making him lean down to look at me.

“But we fuck everything up- that’s what we do.”

He smiled, kissing my forehead, and he shook his head firmly. “Not this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the constant love!
> 
> I'm thinking of continuing this throughout the last two books as well- because ideas keep coming to me that aren't in OOTP. 
> 
> I'll let you know the more I think about it!


	35. 35. The Breakout and The Break-In

I was sitting in the common room the next morning when Bea rushed out of the dorms, her auburn hair falling in her face, her eyes full of panic. I stared at her above my textbook. She rushed to me, pausing for a second when she reached my table, holding onto the Daily Prophet tightly.

I slowly dropped my quill, understanding that whatever she was about to say was going to be serious. Beatrice’s face was pale, ashen- whatever she had read had terrified her. She slammed down the Daily Prophet in front of me, stepping back to let me read.

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN.**

My blood ran cold.

I quickly pulled the paper close to me, reading the words that accompanied the bone-chilling headline. I gripped the paper tightly and read the blatant lies that were spread across the page- the Ministry was blaming Sirius for the outbreak of Death Eaters.

My eyes fluttered back to Beatrice’s, my mouth was suddenly dry.

“That’s a lot of Death Eaters,” she whispered- her eyes were full of panic.

“Ten,” I said quietly, my fingers skimming the words on the page. I brought my hand to my mouth, thinking about the implications of this. Thinking about what will happen if the government kept lying about the truth. Thinking about how many people were going to be attacked like Hagrid and Arthur now that Voldemort’s most loyal were at large. “Merlin’s beard.”

“This is bad, Aylia,” Beatrice nodded, nervously looking behind her to ensure nobody was around. It was smart. There were a lot of relatives of the Death Eater’s in this house, it wouldn’t be a reach to assume one could walk in and overhear us, though I’m not sure what the result would be.

“Fuck,” I said, burying my face in my hands.

Beatrice reached forward, her hand clasping my wrist. I slowly pulled my head back to look at her again.

“I need to learn,” she said- her eyes were still swimming with fear.

“Learn what?” I asked, but I had a feeling I knew exactly what she was talking about- and it had to do with a group she had never been asked to join.

“To fight,” she admitted quietly.

I nodded, once, deciding then and there that I would teach her anything she wanted to know- even after we graduated. I nodded, standing to my feet and scooping the paper up into my arms.

“I’ll teach you,” I agreed instantly, and relief flooded her face. “Can I take this? I need to go and see the guys.”

She nodded eagerly, “Absolutely, go.”

I rushed out of the common room and quickly made my way up to the Great Hall. I had told them that I needed to study this morning, uninterrupted, before the DA meeting later tonight. I had wasted Friday at the Gryffindor common room party and had to power through this hangover. This was the semester that mattered the most.

I rushed through the doors, looking over at the Gryffindor table. There was a buzz throughout the Great Hall, student’s hunched in groups over their copies of the Daily Prophet, worry consuming their faces. I clutched mine tightly, looking for my friends.

Suddenly, Lee popped his hand up near the front of the room, waving to me. I quickly made my way to them, throwing myself down beside Lee. I slammed Beatrice’s copy of the Prophet on the table with the other one they had been reading.

“What the _fuck?”_ I seethed.

Fred rubbed his face roughly, pale and hungover, this news only worsening his mood.

“And to blame Sirius?” I added, even though none of them had spoken.

“Actually absurd,” George shook his head, taking a tiny bit of his toast and trying to get it down.

“Dad always says Lestrange was one of Voldemort’s most loyal too,” Fred grumbled, reaching for his water. He took a generous sip, and then another.

“Convenient that she’s Sirius’ cousin,” Lee whispered, holding out the article in front of him again.

“Is Draco excited for auntie to come home?” Fred asked with a deep, husky laugh. He winced at the volume level of his own voice, clasping a hand over his eye in agony.

I stared at him, but my mind was already recoiling. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that this was Draco’s aunt. Surely, he had to know that his parents had _some_ involvement in this. Bellatrix was probably being hidden by his parents at this very moment in that giant mansion they lived in.

My stomach turned. I reached for a piece of George’s cold and hardened toast.

I bit into it, sinking into my seat.

“What’s stopping them from coming here?” I asked quietly.

“For what?” George asked- as though there was nothing here that Voldemort could want.

That was a terribly dangerous assumption- to expect Voldemort to leave Hogwarts unscathed. Of course he’d capitalize on whatever he could, even if it were only to take out muggleborns for whatever twisted mission he was on. You could wipe out an entire generation by coming to the school.

Harry was also here.

“Doubt he’d face Dumbledore either,” Fred sighed, and he leaned on the palm of his hand. His eyes flickered to me, as if he had just realized that it was me in front of him. A lazy smile spread across his lips. 

I rolled my eyes, snatching the Daily Prophet again, going over it as though something in it’s contents would change. I was downright terrified by the words on this page. I didn’t have mummy and daddy to protect me here, they were in their sleepy little town and were none the wiser. I only had myself and my friends, yet Umbridge wouldn’t teach me anything to save my life.

I thought about Sirius, all alone at Grimmauld place, being blamed for something that he didn’t do for a second time. He had lost everything, and he just kept losing. I was grateful that, at the very least, he had gotten a Christmas with all of us, surrounded by love.

“We’re going to get killed,” I let out a breath, and they all turned to look at me with weary expressions. “They keep saying he’s not back. _He is back!_ All these brainwashed people are going to be so unprepared.”

Fred leaned up, off of his wrist. “We won’t be.”

George nodded sternly, “We have the DA. We’ll be ready.”

“Plus,” Lee sighed, taking a bite of bacon with a grin. “I don’t think anyone would kill someone this ridiculously good looking.”

~*~

There was a new energy in the Room of Requirement that evening. People were buzzing with the fear they felt surrounding the Azkaban breakout. The feeling of needing to regain some control was a common one among us. It was hard, especially when the real truths were being muffled by the Ministry, to know what we should expect next.

As if the universe was trying to restore some balance, Harry told us that this meeting would be centered around learning how to cast a Patronus. I felt my heart swell with excitement, I had been dying for this lesson since we started Dumbledore’s Army. I couldn’t think of anything more powerful than learning to cast a Patronus.

Harry stood in the middle of our circle, he pointed his wand in front of him and took a breath, “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

My heart stilled as a Stag burst through the light of his wand. A low gasp echoed through the room as Harry controlled it, watching it saunter around him in a circle with a presence that exuded power. Harry’s eyes locked on it, and it galloped, taking off into the air.

I burst into a smile, watching it with admiration.

“Yours will be a shit fly,” Fred nudged me.

I rolled my eyes, pushing him back.

As Harry turned back to us, the Stag slowly dissolved to nothing. The room erupted in applause; everyone was desperate to learn this one for themselves. I couldn’t hold back my own excitement as I listened to Harry’s every word, trying to remember every specific detail.

“Think of a memory,” Harry stated, holding out his hands. “Make it a powerful memory, the happiest memory. Allow it to fill you up.”

The happiest memory? Of my life?

I glanced over at Fred, who smiled cheekily at me. I’m sure his had something to do with George, or his happy childhood at the Burrow, but I would reckon that mine _would_ be the moment I saw the necklace that was pinned around my neck.

“A full body patronus is the most difficult to produce, but shield forms can be equally useful against a variety of opponents. Just remember, your patronus can only protect you as long as you focus, so focus,” Harry’s voice rang out.

I held my wand, taking a breath. I thought about then necklace, my beautiful fairy’s dust inside of that pendant, and Fred’s eyes as he watched me open it, “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

A little spark came from my wand, but no patronus found it’s way out. The small amount of light I was able to produce dwindled just as quickly.

I had to focus, and _think._ Hard.

I thought about Fred’s lips on mine, his hands on my skin, that feeling in my stomach as the butterflies exploded as he told me how he felt for the first time.

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_

A little more blue light burst through, but it quickly trickled away.

I glanced at Fred, who raised an eyebrow at me- probably wondering why I wasn’t just thinking about him to make this work. But I _was,_ and it wasn’t working. Was I not rooting myself in the feeling enough?

Fred and George pointed their wands at the same time, “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

I watched in shock as light exploded from their wands, and two magpies fluttered through the room. I smiled, watching them fly together, as connected as the twins themselves. Fred’s flew toward me, fluttering downward past my face, and I followed it with wonder.

It faded quickly, and I glanced at Fred, whose focus was lost as he watched my blissful reaction.

“Incredible,” I mouthed.

He gave a quick shrug, nodding at me to try again.

I turned from him, knowing that I had to focus to make this work. If the kiss wouldn’t work, and if the necklace wouldn’t work, perhaps that fairies in general would be enough to help me produce my patronus. I had been sure that very day that nothing would ever make me happier than that moment.

I thought about the day that Fred and I made up, the glitter my favorite fairy had left for me in a pile on my hand, “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

Nothing.

Harry came by, smiling lightly at me. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Fred was not listening. 

“Listen,” Harry said quietly, “What are you thinking about?”

“Fred,” I admitted bluntly.

Harry nodded, like it had been what he was expecting. “I find your happiest memory is not often what you think it is. I had to think back quite far for mine. It’s the moments that surprise you, the ones that seem small.”

I tried to think of _anything_ that matched that description. Christmas with my family growing up? Maybe the day I got my Hogwarts letter?

Harry watched me carefully, “When did you feel complete? Like everything was okay from that point on? Think of that.”

I nodded, and he turned away, walking to go and help Neville. I pointed my wand again, racking my brain. What was a day that everything changed, when my life found meaning, and I knew I’d be okay for the rest of my life?

I blinked, thinking back to that moment at Hagrid’s hut, when two twin boys had convinced me to take part in their schemes and I had quite literally felt the earth shift on its axis, warning me that my life was about to be turned upside down. I thought about the endless nights falling asleep with each other, tired and full of sugar, talking until the sun came up. I thought about the pranks that we had been pulling for _years,_ which make me laugh until it hurt. I always looked at my mates afterward and thought about how incredibly lucky I was.

It wasn’t just about him, it was about _them._

 _“Expecto Patronum!”_ I shouted, and light burst through my wand and up to the ceiling.

I stared in awe, focusing on the feeling in my chest as a Chow dog rushed through the light, bounding around the room with an excited energy.

“Great job, Aylia!” Harry said excitedly, watching from the other side of the room.

I watched the Chow dog run around, crossing paths with an otter and a horse. I let out an excited laugh, feeling a rush of joy that I hadn’t been expecting.

“Fitting,” Lee said from beside me with a nod.

I turned to him, breaking my concentration, and the Chow dog evaporated into the air.

A bang sounded through the room, and the lights and equipment around us shook. I stared at the chandelier, watching the decorative glass tassels shake as the walls seemed to move with it.

Lee and I looked at each other, frozen to the spot.

A second bang sounded, and everything shook with more force. It hadn’t been an accident, or a spell gone wrong, something was happening. I gripped my wand tightly, glancing around in shock as everyone started to panic. Fred and George rushed toward Lee and I.

I stared at Fred, my eyes full of panic- was this the Death Eaters? Had they _actually_ come to Hogwarts? Was this going to be the moment we were preparing for?

_We were not ready._

We walked forward to the center of the room to stand in solidarity with our group. We raised our wands on instinct, ready to protect each other like we had promised. Angelina slid in beside me, her wand in front of her. She gave me a nod of solidarity.

_Bang._

“Freddie?” I said quietly.

“Right beside you.”

I nodded, feeling reassured that he was near.

_Bang._

The glass at the front of the room shattered into pieces with the force, and those tiny shards fell to the floor. I swallowed hard, locking my arm to ensure that it wouldn’t shake- whatever spell I needed, it had to be a strong one.

Nigel and Harry stepped forward, and I admired the bravery of the young lad. They peered through the opening that was forming in the wall. Then, suddenly, Harry pulled Nigel back and screamed for us to get down.

The wall exploded inward, sending both Harry and Nigel flying backward.

Fred’s arms found me fast, pulling me into him. I kept my wand pointed, hiding my head behind my arm as the cement came ricocheting toward us. My ears rang as chunks of the wall slammed against the floor around us and exploded.

When the dust settled, and the ringing stopped, I slowly lifted my head to see a gaping hole in the Room of Requirement.

I stepped forward quickly when I saw Umbridge there, flanked by Filch and her goons. I wasn’t sure what I was planning on doing, but I knew that I wanted to get to her.

Fred grabbed my arm tightly, forcing me back to his side. I was _furious._

The Inquisitor’s Squad rushed forward, into our safe space, to grab us as though we were cattle to be collected for slaughter. Goyle stormed in and grabbed Harry with a fierceness that wasn’t necessary, and I watched him in agony as he went with no fight.

I wanted to fight for him. He had spent all of this time helping us and it was being reduced to _this_.

“Harry,” I said weakly, and his eyes met mine for a second. He nodded, like it was okay, and went willingly with Goyle.

Draco sauntered in, a hardened look on his face. His eyes met mine as he approached the group of us, an unreadable expression flashing across his face as he came closer. Instead of stopping to seize me like I expected, he moved to walk past me to go and snatch somebody easier instead. He was an absolute _coward._

But I was _mad._ Not just mad, _absolutely furious._ And when I am furious, I don’t just let people do what’s convenient for them because it’s easier for them to stomach. No, I tend to make a scene.

He’d have to look me in the eye or walk through me.

I stepped in front of him as he nearly passed, stopping his stride completely. We stood shoulder to shoulder.

Draco paused, his eyes sliding to mine, carefully glancing at Fred who was watching us with a calculated weariness- daring Malfoy to step out of line. I was glad he hadn’t reached to stop me; this was a fight that I needed to have.

“Finally get what you wanted then?” I asked bitterly, my jaw set as I stared at him.

Draco’s gray eyes flickered behind me to ensure nobody was close enough to overhear us.

“I warned you about what would happen,” he said quietly. “You didn’t want to listen.”

I glared at him, and I felt a hatred that was so familiar but foreign at the same time. I had grown to give Draco the benefit of the doubt, contrary to knowing better, and I hated that I had been foolish enough to believe he deserved it.

“Take me then, wherever you’re taking the rest of them.”

“No,” he said quickly, watching me sideways as neither of us moved. “That’s a job for somebody else. It won’t be me.”

He pushed past me, stepping to the side before doing so, so that we didn’t have to touch.

I spun with him, that familiar anger consuming me. I held out my arms and let out a loud, humorless laugh, “You’re pathetic, Malfoy. Doing all of Umbridge’s dirty work when there are bigger issues for you to worry about. Did daddy warn you about the upcoming family reunion, or was it a surprise?”

He faltered, his eyes meeting mine in the mirrored wall across from him. His eyes slid to Fred again, and for a moment, I thought he was about to tell him all about our stolen kisses, our convoluted and confusing relationship, but he seemed to decide against it- as though that was his gift for doing _this_ to me.

Draco stormed forward instead and grabbed Alicia roughly by her arm, pulling her toward the door.

I stepped forward to hex him. My hand had already begun to raised my wand again.

“Easy,” Fred said quietly, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of my wand hand.

I wanted to push his hands off of the much smaller girl. He did not need to be handling her so roughly. She’d go willingly. He had to know that.

I swallowed, hard, and glanced up at Fred.

He scanned my face curiously- but I could see how angry he was too. “Alright?”

I nodded bitterly, turning to Crabbe who was storming toward us with a satisfied grin, happy to be the one to _finally_ bring me to my punishment. He reached for my arm, a greediness in his eyes, but a deep voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Go on then, Crabbe,” Fred’s voice was dark and angry, heeding a warning. “ _Put your hands on her_.”

Crabbe froze almost immediately. His hands were still outstretched, reaching for me. He slowly looked back to me nervously, and then dropped his hands, nodding in defeat. He pointed toward the door, meeting Fred’s eyes, “Just follow the rest of them.”

I glanced behind me, nodding toward George and Lee who were just feet away from us. They stepped around Crabbe as well, following Fred and I out into the corridor.

Umbridge’s eyes found ours as we stepped through the gaping hole in the wall. Her face immediately scrunched up when she saw us, like she had sucked hard on a lemon.

I’m sure she had been expecting us to be here, but I felt a certain pride surge through me that this was the only thing she had _ever_ been able to prove we had done, and we were not ashamed of it.

I smiled at her as we came face to face, Fred winding his arm loosely around my shoulder. With the guys flanking me, and her eyes locked on us, I twirled my wand between my fingers next to my chest.

I grinned, feeling Fred laughing beside me at my antics. I got close to her face as we turned and I winked, “ _Surprise_.”

George and Lee burst into quiet snickers behind me as she scowled, ready to erupt, but we kept walking, following the rest of the DA as they walked with their heads down, heading toward their punishment.

Not us. We knew this feeling. The four of us sauntered down the hall, proud of what we had been caught doing, our heads held high and our shoulders back.

We were Dumbledore’s fucking Army.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally hit 10 bookmarkers- i am so happy!
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this long chapter, let me know what you think.
> 
> I'm so happy you're enjoying it.


	36. 36. The Whiz Bang Explosive Kiss

One week straight of detention. One week straight of sitting in rows upon rows of students, in the depths of silence, scrawling words onto a parchment that would then slice their way into our skin.

Umbridge was losing her mind. How could she possibly expect a bunch of students to sit there, passively, and take this mounting abuse with no repercussions? She had sniffed out the DA and dismantled it? Great. Taking it away was punishment in itself, wasn’t it? Not for Umbridge. She was going to milk this as long and as painfully as she could- desperate to claim her power over us.

It wouldn’t work. We’d find somewhere else, we’d get stronger. For each sear through my skin, deepening the letters on my hand, came the need to right this wrong. For a small second, as she stood over my desk and watched the blood trickle from my skin, I considered hexing her and dealing with whatever punishment that she gave me. I didn’t, but the urge had been there. If I had been absolutely positive that it would make these barbaric punishments stop for everyone else- I’d probably have gone through with it.

I glanced beside me on the second day of detention, to where Fred sat, pausing to drag my hand against the fabric of my robes. The blood smeared across the material and disappeared into the color.

Fred looked at me, a look of complete disdain on his face. He shook his head, as bothered as I was, wanting to revolt as badly as I did.

It was odd, though, the pain always stopped after a few minutes. It seemed to seep into a dull, deep burn, one that quickly transformed into numbness. My hand still shook violently as I held my quill, internalizing the pain, but I welcomed the numbness. 

I hated looking down and seeing my own writing, but her words, tainting my skin.

What would happen if I stopped writing? Would she even notice with this many people writing the same lines over and over again? Would the quill combust and give me away? I wasn’t sure, but I knew what would follow if she _did_ realize that I was not obeying her orders. I would be sent from Hogwarts packing, no diploma in my hand.

A tapping noise caught my attention. I glanced back over to Fred, he and George were now both watching me carefully. They looked worried as I stared at my parchment, unmoving.

“You okay?” Fred mouthed.

I sighed, nodding quickly, and I started to write again. How had we ended up here? How had Dumbledore allowed it? How did the bloody _Ministry_ allow it? She was abusing children, children as young as eleven years old, because they didn’t blindly follow the extremities of her rules.

And then Dumbledore left.

If you would have told me this is how I would spend my seventh year, I would have rolled my eyes and called you a liar. We _were_ just kids after all, and there was no way something like this could happen in a place that was supposed to teach and protect us.

I walked out of the hall after detention had ended, a slump in my step. Fred immediately wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me tightly. I didn’t know if this was as hard for them as it was for me, but the brutality of this punishment was starting to take a toll on me mentally.

“I can’t do this much longer,” I admitted out loud to him. I could hear the pain in my own voice. “I seriously considered hexing her in there. My hand was on my wand.”

Fred stared down at me; eyes wide but a bit impressed. “Don’t do anything hasty. You’ve got a career to think about.”

“Doesn’t mean much at this point,” I grumbled, flexing my hand in front of me.

“She _does_ need to be taught a lesson,” Lee said, flinging his bag over his shoulder. He covered his hand with the sleeve of his robe. Out of sight, out of mind.

I watched as Fred and George exchanged glances, doing that silent-twin conversation thing they had mastered, and I almost asked them to share what they were thinking. I was just too tired. I was _exhausted._ I wanted life to go back to the way it should be. I hadn’t realized it had been such a privilege to just worry about school.

“I have an idea for this evening,” Fred said, tearing his eyes away from George. He glanced down at me.

I had the feeling something was being kept from me. Something important.

I raised an eyebrow, “Never a good idea.”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile, “Meet me at the hill at 8?”

Now I was intrigued. I stared at him, trying to read his expression. What the hell could he possibly want to do on the hill, in the evening, in the middle of winter?

“All of us?”

“Just you,” he said quietly, and it was clear he was enjoying my weariness regarding his mysterious plan.

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. “Should I bring anything?”

“Nah,” he said, waving me off. “Just yourself. I’ve got the rest covered.”

~*~

I walked to the hill at eight o’clock that evening, bundled in winter clothing and clutching my blankets in my arms. I didn’t trust Fred to have _actually_ come prepared, even though I wasn’t quite sure what I was walking into. I gently pulled down the hat Mrs. Weasley had made me over my ears as I rounded the corner.

My steps faltered for a moment. Fred was sat on a mass of blankets at our spot on the hill, he had charmed little sticks to float around the blankets like campfires, lit to provide warmth. He hadn’t noticed me yet, so I took advantage of watching him when he believed he was alone.

His hands rubbed together repeatedly, and he kept fidgeting with the blankets. He reached forward to adjust the small table that he had lugged outside from his dormitory.

My smile grew, realizing that he was nervous. He leaned back again, onto the wool blankets, examining his work. He gave a final, satisfied nod, pulling his gloves back onto his hands.

I walked forward, and he heard my footsteps trudging toward him through the snow. He turned quickly, and when his eyes fell upon me, he jumped to his feet. His face was slowly engulfed in a grin.

He walked toward me with his arms out, gesturing to our little fort on the hill. He gently took the blankets from my hands and tossed them on top of the rest.

“Fred,” I said cautiously, looking over his masterpiece as I got closer. There were pillows too, probably taken from the beds of everyone in his dorm, as well as the common room couch. The small table across from them was littered with tiny black boxes. “What is this?”

My eyes flickered up to him. He was watching me with a nervous wonder in his eyes.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said with a shrug, but I could feel his excitement. “Come and sit.”

I ducked under the makeshift, mini camp fires and into the fort. It was surprisingly warm once my feet hit the blankets. It was so cozy that I pulled off my hat and gloves immediately, placing them on top of the pillows.

Fred took my hand, lowering himself onto the blankets and guiding me with him.

I glanced toward Hagrid’s hut, where his lights were on and illuminating a bit of the land beneath the hill. The trees were darkened, so I couldn’t see the forest, but I could see the incredible stars that were painting the blackened sky. I was captivated by how romantic this was.

I hadn’t realized that we hadn’t spoken in a few minutes. I was taking my time admiring just how special this was, how beautiful, and allowing myself to feel grateful that it had been done _for me._

“Do you like it?” Fred asked quietly, pulling me to his side.

I swallowed, turning to him. Things like this never really made me emotional, but nothing of this caliber had ever been done for me before. Not by somebody this special. I nodded slowly, suddenly feeling nervous myself.

He smiled, pleased with my answer, and looked out toward the sky. I couldn’t recall ever seeing the sky look like this from this spot, and I fancied that I was an expert on the matter. I had seen it at every time of day, practically memorized it, apart from this hour. It held a beauty so different than the way it looked in the mornings or at sunset. It was a hopeful reminder that the feeling of darkness could be beautiful. There would always be stars to litter the sky.

I reached for his hand, wrapping my fingers around it. He looked down at our connected hands, a smile tugging on his lips, and turned his gloved hand in mine.

“I didn’t force you out here to just look at the sky,” he admitted. He sat up then, pulling off his gloves. He reached forward and grabbed his wand and then scurried back to me. “Come sit on these pillows.”

I moved to lean against the mountain of pillows with him, across from the small table littered with boxes. Fred waved his wand and the boxes on the table all popped open about an inch. A small buzzing sound began to ring out from the small space between the lid and the base.

I glanced at Fred, but he just smiled and reached over to wrap his arm around my shoulders.

Then, one by one, the boxes erupted.

Miniature fireworks exploded from their tops, decorating a small chunk of sky directly in front of us in wondrous colors. They seemed to be tiny versions of the Wildfire Whiz Bangs that Fred and George were creating. They fizzled and burst, all sorts of patterns- reds, and pinks, and oranges.

I couldn’t help but break into a smile as they made the same sounds as real fireworks, just quieted, and broke apart and faded away back into the box. It was like watching a show on the TV, that was the size of them, but they were real and they lit up our entire fort.

Fred’s fingers brushed my back, but I was so engrossed in the show in front of us that I couldn’t bring myself to look away. They didn’t stop, color after color, explosion after explosion, all mixing together to provide an event that even the biggest of stages couldn’t compare to.

Then, the outer boxes shot up pink lines of fireworks, like the light that came from a sparkler, but reaching higher in the sky. The middle boxes erupted in red, shooting sparks off until they exploded between the pink lines in the shape of a heart. One of the boxes to the left shot up an orange light and a fairy-shaped firework fluttered up and soared through the heart, erupting in orange sparkles.

Fairy dust.

I smiled, slowly looking over to Fred.

He met my eyes, his grip tightening around me, “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

My heart fluttered, overwhelmed by those words that I had felt for so long coming off of his lips, in his voice. He loved me. _He loved me._ The pink and red lights were exploding in the reflection of his eyes.

“You reckon?” I whispered, teasing.

He nodded, his hand reaching for me. He gently tilted my head up to him by my chin, his thumb brushing against my jaw. I felt so vulnerable, like he had the power to break me in every way a person could be broken. I was so consumed by him that I feared saying the words back. But I felt them, and I meant them.

“I love you too, Fred Weasley.”

His eyes were serious, searching mine for answers to unasked questions. He smiled as the words hit his ears, a smile that reached his eyes. He leaned in slowly, and I knew that this was it. This was our second-first kiss. This was our fireworks moment.

Our lips found each other, and the fireworks exploded in front of us. Fred’s hand slid down to my neck, his fingers curling behind it. He kissed me deeply, with no care for anyone or anything but me, and I was absolute putty for him.

It didn’t matter that we were outside, in public, even if it was dark and most students were inside. Fred had swept me of my feet with that kiss, not breaking it for more than a moment, his hands desperate to keep me close and show me that he loved me.

I had been okay with our rushed, desperate kiss at Grimmauld place, and I’d always hold it close. It had been the first time his lips touched mine. It had changed everything.

But this was different. This was the kiss that told me he loved me. This was the kiss that felt perfect. When we finally pulled away, I could barely remember what we had been doing here in the first place.

He leaned back against the pillows, pulling me with him. I curled into his side with a smile that I couldn’t hide. I suddenly felt shy and I couldn’t pinpoint why. This was _not_ like me.

We looked back to the fireworks.

“I’m a bloody prince,” he said smugly, his fingers brushing my shoulder.

I laughed, wrapping my arm around his stomach. “You did well.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head gently, “So, you’re my lady now.”

I nodded into the breast of his coat, “It seems that I am.”

“You lucky woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> I decided to release this chapter early as well in spirit of the 'holiday.'
> 
> Let me know what you think!  
> XO


	37. 37. The Lion and the Snake

Things were too perfect.

I should have known that they were going to go arse-up. Even with Death Eaters roaming around England, my last year of school being so terrible, and week-long detentions where I was left bloodied and scarred, I was happy.

I should have known that wouldn’t last.

I was down at Hagrid’s hut, reconnecting with my fairies, already a bit frazzled and disappointed that our connection had seemed to worsen after being apart for so long. The blue-haired fairy was the only one who had come out to gather from me, doing so for the rest of the fairies, and even she seemed hesitant to approach.

The others had reverted back to not trusting me at all. My orange-haired favorite wouldn’t even peek her head out to see me. I was quite literally back to square one.

I saw the two of them coming, trudging through the snow in their boots, and when they were close enough that I could see their faces- I knew that they weren’t visiting just to spend time with me. My frustration peaked. The last thing I needed today was bad news.

I stared at them as they slowed, cautious as they approached. The pair of them plastered tight smiles on their faces, the kind that didn’t reach their eyes.

I held my hand out infront of one of the trunks, blueberries and bread mounted in a heap on my palm- waiting for a fairy to come and gather from me. After a moment, I turned to them and scanned their faces, looking for any inkling of what bombshell they were about to drop.

“Spit it out,” I said with a sigh, glancing back to the trunks.

Fred kicked his boot in the snow, “I think you should put that stuff down.”

All I felt was dread. Maybe a bit of irritation too. I placed the berries and bread on top of the smaller trunk, a few berries rolling off and into the snow. I sucked in a deep breath in preparation. Once I turned around and faced the twins, everything was going to change, _again._ I needed just one moment, one more breath, of normalcy.

Turning to face them, I buried my hands in my pockets and gave them a nod. They smiled tightly again, glancing at each other nervously, their noses red from the cold. They had been outside for some time, maybe watching from afar until they grew the balls to come and speak to me.

“We have some… news to share,” Fred said- he was hesitant, as though this would break us both.

“You might be angry at first,” George added.

“Go on then,” I said shortly, wanting to get this over with.

Fred and George quickly glanced at each other again. For as long as they waited to come and talk to me, you think they’d have figure out their speech by now. But no, here they were, clueless and nervous and dumbstruck.

“You know the plans for the shop?” Fred asked gently, raising his shoulders to warm the sides of his face.

I nodded, “Yeah.”

“You know how we have the building and it’s ready to go when we want it?” George added.

I stared at them, and I felt my heart sinking to my stomach.

“Yes.”

“We’re, uh, going to be starting that up a bit earlier than expected,” Fred said quietly. It was nearly in a whisper, as though any louder and I would have collapsed.

“How much earlier?” I asked.

“Like, next week earlier,” George delivered the blow for his brother, but Fred was the one who winced.

It hurt.

I knew what it meant. They were leaving school. They knew what it meant, too. This last great year that we had talked about was over, and it had been miserable and tragic, and nothing that we had wanted.

I couldn’t be selfish. The shop was going to be their baby, and they needed the time to properly get it up and ready. Having the building was one thing, but they only had a handful of products and they needed time to build upon that empire. It would be selfish for me to stomp my feet and beg them to stay, even though my heart literally cracked down the middle at the thought of them no longer being a couple of feet away. This wasn’t just about me.

But there was an us. The thought of just getting Fred to myself after years of not being with him, not realizing that we were meant for each other, seemed like a cruel and painful joke. The thought of not having George to lean on when I needed him hit the sore spot with the same voracity.

“You’re leaving,” I said finally.

They both nodded, their eyes drifting to the ground.

“It’s for the greater good,” Fred said quickly.

“Get Umbridge back and promote the shop,” George added.

“We’re making a big show of it,” Fred kicked the snow again.

I realized then that they had decided this days ago. That look in the hallway had been a look of understanding. They were going to put Umbridge through hell for what she had done to us, and what she had taken from us. I wasn’t sure why they hadn’t come to me earlier, but the decision had been made long before this conversation.

I let out a breath, rubbing my face with my gloved hands. I dropped them in defeat, meeting their guilty eyes.

“Alright, fine. You’re leaving. Where does that leave Lee and I?”

“In school,” Fred said immediately, with a tone of finality that I didn’t much like.

“You expect us to stay here with Umbridge without you? To keep having words carved into our skin, unable to speak without being punished?” I asked sharply.

Fred nodded, “Absolutely. You have a couple of months left. You have to finish and then you can become a healer.”

I knew he had my best intentions in mind, and I should have his, but the thought of being without them was detrimental. We could survive this because we could lean on each other. How long could Lee and I lean on each other before completely losing our minds?

“What if I join you?”

“No,” they both said in unison.

“Pardon me?” I snapped.

Fred glared at George, “I _told_ you we shouldn’t have told her.”

George’s eyes cautiously flickered to mine, but I was already burning holes into Fred’s face with my mind. Fred slowly turned to look at me too, aware of his misstep.

“You weren’t going to tell me?” I asked quietly.

“I-,” he started, but his face said it all. He was guilty. He wanted to leave and then apologize after to avoid this very painful, very real conversation. That wasn’t something that my best mates would do to me, and it’s surely not what my boyfriend _should_ do.

“-You know what?” I snapped, waving them off. “I have a job to do here. Go back up to the castle, I’ll find you later.”

“Aurs,” George said softly.

“Go. Please,” I muttered.

I turned away from them, back to my fairies. I swiped the berries and the bread off of the trunk and into my palm, a bit disappointed that they hadn’t come to fetch it while my back was turned.

I didn’t blame them for not trusting those two, though, I was starting not to as well.

“Hey,” Fred reached for me, pulling my hand gently. I was taken aback, thinking they had gone, and the fairies’ food fell from my hands and into the snow.

I erupted in a fury, “Fred!”

He stepped back, instantly regretful. He bent down to pick up the berries and the bread with his gloved fingers, but even that was angering me. I pushed his hands away, stomping on the berries to ensure that he couldn’t grab them.

He stood, and he knew that I was on my last nerve.

“I said I’ll see you later,” I snapped. “These fairies are the last thing I have, please just let me do this on my own before I have to deal with the fact that we’ve been together for a few weeks and you’re _already_ hiding things from me like I’m no longer your friend and I’m now _just_ your girlfriend.”

Fred sighed, taking a step back. His eyes conveyed how apologetic he was, but I couldn’t muster up the will to care. I was hurt, and I hated feeling like I was pushed out of something so important. Mostly, I was angry that he felt like he could dictate my choices.

The twins left as I busied myself with the fairy feed again. I shut my eyes as I listened to their footsteps fade away, absorbing the news that everything was going to change again. I could feel the loneliness already, and they hadn’t even gone yet. They’d be taking a huge piece of me with them when they did.

Did Lee know? I would wager a bet that they had broke the news to him first. It really didn’t seem fair that now that Fred and I were together, I was conveniently left out of these conversations. 

I finished dealing with my fairies, with no further progress with them either. I trudged back up to the castle feeling bitter and defensive, though I wasn’t sure over what. I couldn’t pinpoint if this anger was rooted in them leaving me here, or if I was just annoyed because of how they had discussed cutting me out of the plan entirely.

Fred had wanted to just _leave_ school and tell me that they had done so afterward. Was he bloody serious? Did he really think completely abandoning me with absolutely no discussion would bode well for this relationship?

I stormed into the common room, kicking off my boots and tearing the hat Mrs. Weasley had made me off of my head. I pulled off my jacket and scarf, hanging them on the rack beside the door.

“How’s the hand?”

I glanced to the tables, where Malfoy sat on his own in front of parchment and textbooks. I thought about all of the times in the fall that I had sat across from him in these exact moments, trying to convince myself that he was a good person.

“Do you think you’re funny?” I snapped, glaring at him. “Because of all days, today is probably the _last_ day that you should push me.”

“Why?” he asked, but he was already smirking- he didn’t care. “Did the firecrotch not compliment you enough today?”

I shut my eyes, willing myself to stay calm and sane. He couldn’t push my buttons, not when I had a whole world of things to worry about that didn’t involve his irritating face.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” I seethed, turning to head to the dorm- maybe Beatrice was around to lend an ear about my predicament.

But Draco had made other plans. He pulled his chair back, walking toward me before I could get too far. He grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward him, not allowing me to leave.

I swung back, ready to hit him, but he locked his hands around both of my arms and forced them downward. Draco pushed me toward the couch, pressing me against the back of it. As his eyes burned into mine, I debated throwing myself over the couch to get away, but he roughly stepped on my feet and pushed down.

I winced in pain.

He brought his lips close to my face. The look of disgust was clear.

“If you ever speak ill of my family again,” he whispered in a warning.

I stared at him directly, meeting his accusing eyes. I would not cower in the hands of Draco bloody Malfoy. I said what I said in the Room of Requirement and I meant it.

“You’ll what?” I asked sharply, the venom seeping off of my tongue. “You’ll hit me? Hex me? Break another ten of your relatives out of Azkaban?”

His eyes darkened and he tightened his grip on my hands. “ _You don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

“And you don’t have an ounce of a backbone in your body,” I spat, pushing back against his hands. I recalled one of our conversations on this couch, where he had bared his soul to me. “You and I both agree on that, remember? I couldn’t expect you to stand up to daddy _or_ Umbridge. I shouldn’t have been surprised that you had been there like a trained dog.”

“Aurora,” he warned, and I knew that I was pushing his buttons.

“Your family is pathetic,” I said through my teeth, watching him wince despite himself. “ _Spineless._ I’ll say whatever the fuck I want about them.”

Draco shoved me then, roughly, and my body smashed into the couch. He held me tightly, preventing me from soaring over, but I could feel the bruise already forming on my back.

Draco’s eyes burned into mine, “Marry a Weasley then, Aurora. Survive on dirt and hand-me-downs for the rest of your life.”

“Did you think I’d marry _you?”_ I let out a laugh of disbelief, and he clenched his jaw tightly, squeezing tighter. “I’d rather die than bear your last name.”

“I recall you moaning a _very_ different sentiment before Christmas,” Draco muttered, leaning toward me. I could feel his breath on my face, his lips hovering just above my cheek.

I swallowed, looking away.

His hand slid from my arms to my waist, and despite being free to push myself away now, I was frozen in place. He pulled my body to him, his lips so close to my jaw that I held my breath.

“You may love that pathetic idiot,” he whispered, his hand sliding down my body. “But the reason you keep trying to put me in my place, trying to _make a scene,_ is because you _want_ me and you feel incredibly guilty about that fact.”

I glared at him, my heart slamming against my ribs. “You’re mistaken. I want _nothing_ from you. I want _nothing_ from your family. _”_

He smiled, letting out a whisper of a laugh, his hands gliding up my stomach. “And yet here you are. It’s almost as though I have everything you _need._ ”

I shoved him them, roughly, finally getting the space between us that I had desired. He smirked, pressing down on his shirt that I had rumpled with my force.

I stared at him, my breathing heavy, consumed by anger.

“All you have is a daddy that would sell you to the Dark Lord if he asked nicely,” I said sharply, and Draco’s smirk seemed to falter, finally. “I feel sorry for you.”

I pushed passed him and into the dorms, finally able to breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love on the Valentine's day chapter.
> 
> I appreciate you guys! Never in one million years did I ever think we'd be over 70 kudos- I can't.


	38. 38. The Plan

Fred was waiting for me outside of the common room the next morning. He looked tired as he sat on the bottom steps of the dungeon. His bright orange hair was a mess and the circles under his eyes were darkened. At least he looked just as worn down as I did.

He jumped up from the steps as I entered the corridor, my books in hand.

He paused, standing at the bottom of the staircase.

I faltered too, “Hey.”

“Hi,” he said softly, burying a hand in his pocket.

I studied him carefully, recognizing the worry that laced through those laugh lines. I softened as I pictured him tossing and turning, wondering how to make this better. I couldn’t hold this plan against him. After some thinking last night, I realized that it wasn’t their plan that had bothered me so much, it was all of the other stuff.

Fred cared about me and he cared about my future. I didn’t doubt that for one instant. If I cared about his future, I had to let this go. I had to let him go. I couldn’t dwell on the fact that he had almost chosen to disappear without telling me.

I let out a small sigh, pulling my books to my chest, “I’m excited for you. I just feel shit that I just got you and you’re leaving.”

He smiled tightly, nodding with similar understanding, “Me too.”

“I want to come with you,” I admitted.

His face fell then, like he had anticipated me sleeping on it and agreeing with his every word. He was not wrong. I did understand his point, and I would stay back and finish school, but I _wanted_ to embark on this journey with them.

I also wanted them to stay at Hogwarts and finish with me like I’d always imagined. Like _we_ planned. But it didn’t matter what I wanted- what would happen would be different.

“But I need to finish,” I said quietly.

He let out a sharp breath, “Yeah, you do. I’ll cheer you on at graduation and everything, but you have to get what you’ve worked so hard for, darling.”

I nodded, stepping toward him to walk to class and move past this.

He relaxed as we climbed the stairs from the dungeons, the iciness from our last conversation had melted as soon as I heard his voice.

Grief was still beginning to sprout in my chest. This was yet another thing that Umbridge had taken from me- and it was the most important one yet.

“I want to hear all about it,” I told him, looking sideways at him carefully. “And none of this bollocks about holding things back from me. That’s not the way this is going to work.”

“Understood.”

I thought about Draco last night, about the force he had used against me. I debated telling Fred then and there, but there was no point. It’d only be something that would make him want to stay, and that wasn’t fair. I could handle a fifth year on my own, regardless of how he attempted to intimidate me.

“After class then?” Fred asked, as we rounded the corridor and were set to split in opposing directions. “Georgie and Lee as well?”

I nodded, trying to smile to make him feel better. I was tired of being so sad, of losing so much. I just wanted to feel the fireworks of that night on the hill for at least a few days before being slapped in the face with a dose of reality.

It was never that easy.

~*~

We sat at a back table in the library, away from as many people as possible, because the Gryffindor common room had been unusually packed and there were little other places to go that weren’t being monitored.

I had spotted a few Inquisitor members near the doors of the library as we walked in, and they had eyed us carefully with similar resentment, but they seemed uninterested in us as we rounded the corner to find a more private table.

There was sadness on Lee’s face as we sat across from each other, listening to the twins, though he was much better at masking it than I was. It was nice knowing that he felt the same, that he wasn’t any happier than I was about this was happening sooner than we had expected. Lee had been attached to the pair of them since first year, and he would be finishing his last without them.

I listened in silence as the twins detailed their plans. It would happen during examinations. They were going to set off their Wildfire Wiz Bangs-- their whole stock. They explained how it would promote their shop, how they had figured out a way to help Harry at the same time, and how it would be a resounding ‘fuck you’ to Umbridge and her regime.

I was so incredibly proud of them. They had spent nights awake perfecting these things, coming up with genius ideas that a normal person could never even dream of, and it was finally going to pay off. Years of using their minds to _create_ had wound up leading them to a career that they were passionate about.

It was an interesting juxtaposition of feelings that I was having while I watched them explain with a contagious excitement.

But I was sad, and I couldn’t seem to manage being able to turn that off.

“It’ll fly by,” Fred said from beside me.

I was sure that it would, but a harder year just got a whole lot harder.

I glanced at him, and then George.

“I don’t know how to _do_ Hogwarts without you two.”

“We’re not that far,” Fred reassured me, but I could see the doubt in his own eyes. He was worried about us too, about the distance and the improbability of seeing one another while Umbridge was Headmaster.

“It’s going to strange,” Lee admitted. It had been about forty minutes and neither of us had interrupted them to speak. We both seemed to be in our heads.

“You guys will be fine. You’ll keep the chaos alive for us while we’re gone, and then we’ll meet up in Diagon Alley at end of term and get a celebratory drink,” George sounded so positive, but he knew better.

There was no real chaos without them. We’d do our best, but our success relied on their products and their wit, and those were going to become hard to come by if they weren’t here. The actual reality is that Lee might play a few tricks here and there, but we’d spend most of our time focusing on school.

I glanced at Fred. He seemed uncomfortable with the sullen mood at the table- withdrawn. I reached for him, under the table and away from the eyes of our friends. I rested my hand on his thigh, squeezing gently.

He immediately dropped his hand to his lap, placing his hand on top of mine. I turned my hand in his as Lee spoke quietly, and our fingers laced through each other’s.

We stole a glance with each other, just for a moment of understanding between us. Neither of us liked this. It felt like a heartbreak that we hadn’t seen coming. But we had waited years for each other. I wouldn’t let this hurt us, and I had the tendency of getting the things that I wanted, even if it took some time.

I’d be at the door of their shop the day after graduation.

“So, five more days with you guys and you’re out of here,” Lee said.

“Can we focus on ruining Umbridge’s life during those days?” I asked.

They all animatedly agreed, and the conversation took off from there. New plans were being made, the last plans that would involve all four of us. I kept my hand in Fred’s. I wanted to spend every single second with him- even if it meant sleeping outside in our makeshift fort with charmed miniature bonfires surrounding us to keep us warm.

I never thought I’d have to endure a Hogwarts without them. I needed to fit weeks of memories into days.

Fred and I separated ourselves from George and Lee after leaving the library.

We sat outside the Gryffindor common room, on one of the quiet benches, shoulder to shoulder. I rested my head against the wall, staring at a spot on the floor, willing myself to focus on the good in what they were about to do.

“I have a plan,” Fred said confidently.

“Hm?”

He turned to me, not caring that I seemed less than enthused about whatever mischief he had conjured up in his mind.

“The goal is to get the shop up and running before fall, right?” he asked, and I kept my eyes on that speck of dirt on the floor. “I’m banking on making a killing after the back-to-school rush, the shop is going to be a favorite for all sorts of kids. Say we make enough money to keep us afloat that first season, maybe have a little extra, perhaps George and I could put down the money for a nice little storefront somewhere close.”

I rolled my head to look at him through hooded eyes, unsure what he was getting at. “You want two shops?”

Fred shook his head, “One shop. The other is yours.”

I lifted my head, my brows furrowing together. He looked so set on the idea that I was having trouble understanding what he meant. “My shop? For what?”

“Healer business,” he stated bluntly, like it was obvious.

“Freddie, it isn’t that easy,” I said gently, though I did appreciate the sentiment. “I’d have to train under somebody for a while, I couldn’t just open up my own shop with no experience. Plus, the money you and George make is _your_ money.”

Fred pressed his lips together tightly. His shoulders seemed to slump a bit.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, trying to reassure him. “I’ll make it through this last part of seventh year and then I’ll intern somewhere for a few months. The rest will sort itself out.”

“Just a bit rubbish that you can’t just work at the shop. Why do you have to have goals and all that?” He joked, and I let out a laugh.

He seemed to brighten.

I reached for him, taking his hand in my own. I stared as he slid his fingers through mine, his thumb brushing against my skin.

It would be okay, surely. Neither of us were people who could stomach not getting what we wanted. So, it would be hard? What _hadn’t_ been hard this year? This was just another bump in the road.

“Will you miss me?” I asked earnestly, and felt a twinge a self-loathing that I had asked such a question. But this version of me, the one that was in love, needed to know.

“Just a tad,” Fred said quietly.

I looked at him, and his sad, sinking smile said it all. The missing each other was going to be the worst of it. But the missing each other had a deadline too, and when it expired, we’d be together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Just a little update- i have finished the last chapter of this story. 
> 
> I have decided that I'm going to write a sequel about the next two-ish years of Aylia/Fred/Draco/etc's lives. 
> 
> So stay tuned for that- but there is still a good chunk of chapters left in this one!
> 
> Thank you!


	39. 39. The Explosive Goodbye

The O.W.L.S for the fifth year students were in progress. We had spent that past couple of days soaking up all of the time with the twins that Lee and I had left. Admittedly, worrying about school took pause so that we could enjoy each other with little worry. It felt like third year again, more worried about goofing off than we were anything else. We had managed to make Umbridge’s life hell at the same time, which was an added bonus.

We’d put gollyworms in her tea-bags, jinxed the chair in her office to let out fart noises when she sat, and managed to destroy about forty of those jinxed quills before she realized someone was tampering with them and shoved the rest in a closet with one hundred and something protective charms.

It was a good send-off, a marvelous tribute to the friendship that we had built here, at this school, for the past seven years.

But then the day I had been loathing came far too soon. Where there is joy, there is also pain.

I had a weight in my heart from the moment I woke up that morning. My feet felt like they were covered in cement, dragging me down to the floor as I walked through the corridors. I’d be doing fine for a few minutes, distracted by school, but then I’d think about the fact that tomorrow I would wake up and Fred and George wouldn’t be here, and that prickling feeling would inflame the spot behind my eyes.

I couldn’t cry, not yet. I told myself over and over again that this wasn’t a bad thing, it just felt like it was.

Helping them prepare was bittersweet. Their excitement was contagious, but I couldn’t quite absorb it the way that Lee was managing to. Every Wildfire Wiz Bang that I stored for them, shoving it in their bags and in crates, was a token to my own undoing. And then I watched the clock. I checked it every couple of minutes, counting down the seconds until they’d go.

It was when Lee suddenly erupted in cheers, hyping the twins up just minutes before they were to set the world on fire, that I finally started to feel the same excitement. This was going to be big, and it was going to be historical, and it would piss Umbridge off in a way that we hadn’t managed to achieve yet.

 _That_ was the moment that I made peace with this plan.

The four of us would pause to smile at each other in the breaks in our conversations. We knew how imperative this was for all of us individually. This was taking back our power, it was giving a big middle finger to the Ministry, it was payback for carving words that we did not want into our bodies. It was revenge for Quidditch, and for taking away our ability to learn, and for denying that Voldemort was back to hundreds of students.

It was justice.

Five minutes to drop time. I suddenly felt the need to spill the contents of my heart, as though them leaving meant forever and not just weeks.

“You guys are going to be amazing,” I said quickly, touching both of their cheeks. I refused to allow myself to get teary. “You were meant for things bigger than this school. This is just the beginning for you two. I am so proud of you both.”

Fred couldn’t meet my eyes, but George was positively beaming at me. It meant a lot to him that Lee and I were so supportive.

“I love you, alright?” I whispered to George, and my bottom lip shook. I blinked away the tears quickly, pulling him down to me into a tight hug.

He squeezed me back just as tight.

When George let go, and Lee went to him to say his own goodbye, I reached for my soulmate. Fred’s hands pulled me to him, one hand in my hair and the other around my waist. He buried his face in the crook of my neck. I could feel his heart hammering against his body, against mine.

I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, shutting my eyes, taking in a deep breath of cinnamon and fire crackers.

“I love you,” I whispered into his ear, and he nodded- unable to speak. “I’ve waited years for you, I can wait a bit longer, alright?”

He nodded into my neck again, holding me even tighter. I couldn’t help it, a few tears slipped down my cheeks as I held the other half of my heart in my hands. I would have to let it go, and that hurt. 

Lee’s hand gently pulled my arm away. I fought to hold him a second longer, but Fred’s arms loosened around me. Lee gently guided me backward, away from Fred. He was sympathetic of course, but we had two minutes left and he deserved to say goodbye.

I stepped back, wiping my eyes quickly.

George was already piling the bags full of Wildfire Wiz Bangs onto his shoulders, preparing for the drop. I fought hard to _not_ listen to the kind words that Lee was giving Fred, every one of them piercing my heart. Fred was slowly growing excited again, nodding along to Lee’s words of encouragement.

He _had_ always been their biggest fan.

“Freddie, we have to go,” George said urgently, checking his watch. He started passing bags and bags of product to Fred to drape over himself.

Lee helped pile the bags on Fred’s back, and my panicked heart wanted to reach for them again to make them stay.

“Ready?” Fred asked his twin once he was also adorned in bags and bags of explosives. He glanced at George.

George, who was nearly drowning in the bags hanging off of his body, nodded with a grin. “Ready.”

“The ones in the crates are set to go off in forty seconds,” Lee said quickly, glancing at his own watch. His eyes were wide.

Fred and George grabbed their brooms, mounting them. Fred let out a shaky breath as he met my eyes, and I smiled, trying to convey anything but the sadness that I felt watching him go. He adjusted his bags for a final time as George soared into the air.

“Twenty seconds!” Lee said urgently. “Go on lads, we’ll miss you heaps. Give it your all.”

Fred pushed himself upward, and Lee and I stepped back, absent-mindedly reaching for each other. I wound my arm around his and squeezed. It was a blessing that he was sturdy as I trembled next to him.

“Give her hell,” I said to them.

The twins looked at us, on the ground beneath them. They smiled that smile that reached their eyes, and without another word they took off through the corridor.

Lee and I walked together, heading toward the examination room at a reasonable pace, watching our friends disappear quickly above us. I latched onto Lee, and we didn’t speak, but when the first explosion went off a few paces away and the hallway was illuminated in colorful sparks, we both couldn’t hold back our smiles.

The world erupted then, and Wildfire Wiz Bangs began to explode into every inch of the air in the vicinity. They were enormous, and _loud,_ exuding so many different shapes and clever charms, some spraying water or jolts of lightening while others crinkled away like fireworks.

As a large, purple and blue Wiz Bang exploded and let out an echo of Umbridge’s throat clearing sound, Lee and I burst into laughter. Our sadness seemed to be curbed by the chaos.

A Hufflepuff boy ran past us, though the hallway and out the door of the castle. One of the Wiz Bangs zipped under him, crackling as it did, and turned into a large hand as it reached him, smacking his bottom and tossing him up a couple of feet.

It was perfect.

Lee and I waited next to the doors of the examination room, observing the absolute madness going inside the room as the doors flew open. Students got to their feet and flooded out, most of them laughing and cheering in support, but some fleeing in fear.

Harry and Ron slid past us, their eyes finding ours rather quickly. Ron raised a single eyebrow.

Lee and I only shrugged, but he already knew. Yes, this was the work of his brothers.

We followed the crowd as they pushed themselves down the corridor, just behind a group of Gryffindor girls. We finally spotted Fred and George above the herd. I could catch hints of their laugher among the explosions, when there was the tiniest of pauses. They were throwing the Wiz Bangs out of their bags and into the crowd likely aiming for the Umbridge’s, the Draco’s, and the Goyle’s of the group.

The mass of students rushed outside, following the twins on their brooms as they escaped the castle and soared into the outer corridor, guiding them. As soon as our feet hit the cobblestone, the sky exploded into an enormity of explosions, a firework display that could defeat any other. Big, beautiful, and absolutely magical.

Lee and I gripped each other tighter, unable to feel any lasting sadness while we watched the triumphant image ahead of us. The students were illuminated in colors, their jaws dropped in awe as they craned their necks to see it all. Nobody wanted to miss a thing.

They had done it, they pulled it off.

That’s all that really mattered.

A gust of wind swept by the pair of us, splitting us apart.

I let out a little shriek, stumbling to the side due to the force and away from Lee. As I looked back toward the sky, following what had nearly hit us both, Fred was circling back on his broom.

He dove toward the ground- toward me, incredibly quickly. His hair was pulled all of the way back with the force of the wind. I froze, his frame speeding toward me, but he managed to slow just enough as he reached me.

“Forgot to say ‘I love you’ back there,” he said as he hopped off of his broom for one quick second. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me to him, smashing his lips onto mine.

Even though it was only a few brief seconds of a kiss, I was brought back to that moment on the hill, with the tiny version of these fireworks playing out in front of us. The sounds of the Wiz Bangs were deafening around us, and the crowd seemed to cheer a little bit louder as he dipped me in his arms.

A life with him would always have fireworks.

He pulled away with a smile, mocking a gentle punch to my cheek, and quickly mounted his broom again, taking off back into the sky. I watched him go, my heart swelling with pride, and realized it didn’t really matter how far away he was, or how long we had to spent apart, we’d always come back for one another.

“Oi, you git!” Lee screamed after him, cupping his hands over his mouth. “Where’s mine?”

Fred soared up into the sky, meeting with his brother in front of all of the colors that exploded around them. The pair of them reached into the bags and threw up the remaining Wiz Bangs, the blue afternoon sky was suddenly painted in its entirety in sparkling purples and oranges.

The twins turned and waved to the crowd who absolutely _erupted_ in response, and then quickly soared away- leaving Hogwarts, leaving Lee and I, leaving their painted sky behind.

A brilliant, colorful ‘W’ lingered in explosives in the air.

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was about to be open for business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentleman, this is the moment you've waited for.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Let me know if you liked it!


	40. 40. The Headmaster's Office

The next few days were awful.

I couldn’t even pretend to be the slightest bit happy. I missed my friends, my boyfriend, and I thoroughly missed actually learning while at school. Although not satisfactory, there was a bit of added comfort knowing that Lee and I seemed to exist in this funk together. It had been a long time since we had been forced to go through life without much excitement.

I tried to focus on school, but even then, I was struggling. I waited anxiously for Sunday to receive my mail that week, desperate for any word, but a letter from the twins never came. I could not hold it against them, they had to be busy, but I still peppered Ron and Ginny with questions only to be told they knew even less than I did.

I was sitting in the library with Lee, both of us attempting to work on our final papers for Potions, when Draco slammed his hands down on to our table. The pair of us looked up, and then slowly to each other, but neither of us seemed to understand why Malfoy would be seeking us out in the middle of the afternoon.

“Aurora,” Draco said in a grumble. His steel eyes flickered to Lee. “Jordan.”

“I’d fancy if you pissed off, Malfoy,” Lee said immediately, leaning back in his chair.

Draco’s brow furrowed. He had been expecting less cheek with Fred and George gone.

“Umbridge sent me to fetch you both,” Draco said, looking back to me. He seemed to be under the impression that what happened in the common room was something I had gotten over, but I was still angry about it. I had a bruised lower back that hurt to sleep on, _that’s_ how rough he had treated me.

“She can come get us herself,” I said, turning back to my paper. I dipped my quill in the ink and began to write again.

“Surely, you know that will not happen,” Draco snapped.

I gave an unbothered shrug, and Lee had also turned his attention back to his books. It was an adrenaline high of a different sort, pissing off Malfoy, and the reward felt as good as setting off hundreds of Wildfire Wiz Bangs, I’m sure.

He didn’t move to leave. He kept his pale, untainted hands pressed to our table, waiting for us to give in and follow him back to his master.

Well, neither of us were going to do that.

“Aurora,” Draco said quietly, and he turned his body toward me, like Lee wouldn’t be able to hear him if he wasn’t looking at him. “If you fancy passing your classes, you’d be wise to follow me.”

I gave another shrug, continuing to scrawl. I _really_ could not be bothered. With Fred and George gone, it was now up to Lee and I to push back against this dictatorship. I was even more fueled with hatred now that Fred was gone, since I had very little distractions left to make me feel better. I didn’t care if she wanted me to clap three times and smile, I was done making this easy for her.

“Aurora,” Draco said again.

Lee tensed on the opposite side of the table, his patience wearing thin.

My quill was ripped from my hands then, and slammed on the floor. I stared up at Malfoy, my mouth agape. He stomped on it and snapped it in two.

I stood first, but Lee was only a half-second behind me. I reached for my wand, which was resting in between my books, but Draco snatched it first.

Lee slid his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at Draco’s face. Draco levelled my own wand at me.

His gray eyes flickered to Lee, a small smirk spreading on his lips. “Put it down, Jordan, or I’ll show the whole library what’s underneath her robes.”

Lee’s furious eyes glanced over at me, unsure of what to do next. I hardly doubted that Draco was going to strip me down in front of everyone, but I nodded to Lee to do as he said on the off chance that he was feeling particularly bold today.

Lee slowly lowered his wand, but he kept it at his side.

“Now,” Draco said, pushing out his sharp chin. “Come with me.”

“Absolutely not,” I replied. I stepped toward him, allowing the tip of my own wand to press against my chest- right over my heart. “Either hex me or tell that fat oaf to come and get me herself.”

“Mighty brave without Fred and George here, aren’t you Malfoy?” Lee chirped with a snicker.

Draco’s eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but he suppressed it just as quickly.

“Aylia.”

It was Beatrice.

All three of us glanced behind Malfoy to see Beatrice standing a few feet away with Florence, her face looking sickly. She sneered at Draco, but quickly looked back to me with a soft, worried look.

“You should go. Umbridge has been to our dorm, she’s gone through your things.”

“For what?” I snapped.

Beatrice shrugged, but Flo’s eyes locked onto Lee, who gave her a quick nod. She smiled.

“Alright, fine,” I growled, ripping my wand out of Malfoy’s hands.

He swelled with pride, which was absolutely pathetic. He had most definitely not been the one to convince us to do _anything._

“Take us to mummy, Malfoy,” I said.

We walked in silence, Lee and I just a step behind Draco. Lee looked tired, like he wished he had just hopped on a third broom and taken off with the twins. It was a non-stop battle here, at Hogwarts, fighting for any ounce of education and fair treatment.

I kind of wished I had left as well.

When we reached Umbridge’s office, the door was shut. Draco hesitated. He slowly turned to Lee and I, his eyes skimming Lee’s face briefly- unsure of how to approach me in his company.

“Listen,” he murmured, peering down at me from beyond his nose. “She has something on you. I’m not sure what. She’s livid. Just bite your tongue and refrain from being yourself.”

I stared at him. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’m sure we’ll survive.”

“Aurora,” he said with a sigh- he seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the fight. “Fine, go on then.”

I tore the door to her office open, and there she sat, pink and puffy and waiting for us with a smile. Umbridge nodded a thank-you to Malfoy, who didn’t seem so proud of himself as he shut the door behind us. Her snake eyes slid to me.

Umbridge gestured to the seats in front of her desk. The same ones we sat in the day of our first detention.

We hesitated, but we sat.

“How are your friends? Those Weasley boys?” she asked with a bitter smile. I’m sure she was expecting them to be struggling, worse now that they were no longer in school. I wished I could see her face when she realized how wrong that assumption was.

Lee and I glanced at each other, and then back to her, neither of us taking her bait. Our friends were fine. They beat her at her games and they embarrassed her. That’s all she really had to know about them now that they weren’t her students to control.

“Very well,” she said, sitting up in her chair. She reached for two pieces of parchment folded in front of her. She leaned forward, handing one to Lee and one to myself.

We stared at it for a moment, recognizing the Hogwarts seal and the green ink. As I opened the parchment and the words flashed before my eyes, my heart sunk to my gut.

_No._

Umbridge was already speaking, narrating the contents of her official letter, signed with her own name in her penmanship. She read it aloud for extra measure.

“ _Due to your involvement with the event that occurred during the fifth-year O.W.L. examination,_ Ms. Aurora and Mr. Jordan _, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ ”

I felt faint. My hands gripped the letter, threatening to crumple it completely, but I was too in shock to move. She had gotten what she wanted. She had ruined my life.

I felt Lee shift beside me, his eyes glued to me as he held his own letter, wondering what we could possibly do next to right _this_ wrong. This was the only way that Umbridge could silence us for good, ensuring we did not impede on her rules, and she had done it.

Lee took the reins while I stared at the parchment.

“Professor, we had nothing to do with that,” he said sharply. “You know that as well. It was Fred and George and they’re gone, so you have no grounds to _expel_ us.”

“It’s been decided. No use wasting your breath now, dear,” Umbridge smiled, her eyes lingered on me, like she knew this meant my idealized future had been stripped from me.

My eyes slowly drifted upward to her, meeting her eyes. There was a twinkle there, the same kind that I saw in Fred and George when they were passionate about something. _This_ was Umbridge’s passion- destroying the lives of the students that she was supposed to teach.

“You’ll leave promptly in the morning,” she said, clearing her throat.

I flinched at the sound.

_No._

“Professor-,” Lee started, leaning forward.

“-Off you go,” Umbridge smiled tightly, nodding at the pair of us.

Our eyes slid to each other, and I considered saying all of the things that I had been _desperate_ to say to her all year. I wanted her to know the depths of my hatred, how _deeply_ I wished for her to hurt. But that is what she would be expecting of course, and I couldn’t give her what she wanted that easily.

My instinctive rage was flourishing, and it was accompanied by a heavy need to get revenge. But on top of that, weighing my anger down like an anchored ship, was an astounding amount of sadness.

I stood, my legs somehow sturdy, and crumpled up the parchment into a small ball.

Umbridge’s eyes flashed with exasperation.

I tossed the letter back onto her desk, right in from of her, and watched as it bounced off of the desk and to the floor.

This vile and despicable woman was taking my future away from me, something I had been working toward for seven bloody years, and she _felt good about it._ I was born to be a healer for creatures, it was engrained within me, and I _would_ make a mark on the world with that career. _But I needed that career to remain an option._

My mind quickly thought about Hagrid, who I had naively believed that I had time left with. I hadn’t gotten to get him that gift that I wanted to. And then there were the fairies, who I had not had a chance to bond with again. I wouldn’t get that chance.

I would be entering my adult life without a diploma from Hogwarts. That had been such a certain since first year that I never really considered not graduating as a possibility. I wasn’t wise like the twins; I couldn’t conjure up these grand and creative ideas and make a living off of it. I needed good grades and a structured career. I was going to be working as Fred and George’s front of shop for the rest of my life.

“Aylia,” Lee whispered, standing with me.

I nodded; my mind foggy.

He glanced awkwardly at Umbridge, who seemed to be content acting like we had already left the room as she busied herself with papers on her desk. He was also wondering where we went from here. Did we leave as she asked, peacefully and cut our losses? Or did we do what we do best?

Without thinking, I dropped my wand into my hand and quickly pointed it at her closet. Since we had messed about in here so often in the last few days, I knew that this is where she had stored the remaining jinxed quills, locking them up tightly to prevent any further damage to her torture devices.

I didn’t need to know a charm strong enough to break through her multiple locking charms, and picking the lock hadn’t worked. We had tried in the days leading up to the Wiz Bang prank to figure out a way in, but even Lee had failed.

But you didn’t need to simply unlock a door if you were going to blow it to smithereens. There were more useful spells for that. I pointed my wand before Umbridge could look up from her desk.

“ _Bombarda Maxima.”_

I pulled Lee quickly with me, back toward the door. The closet exploded into thousands of pieces, sending Umbridge and her chair flying sideways and into the wall. I hadn’t thought about what I’d do if it hurt her, or even killed her, but as she fell to a heap on the floor and let out a cough- I realized that I really didn’t care.

As Lee threw open the door, I craned my neck over her desk to the gaping hole in the wall. There was only dust left where the hundreds of quills had once been. It’d take her months to get her hands on quills like that again. The rest of the students would be safe.

Rushing out of the office, we passed a stunned Draco, who glanced into the office and then back at me with wide eyes.

I smiled. I had finally done what I was meant to. I put a stop to her torture. That was all that mattered.

Draco tore his eyes away and ran to Umbridge’s aid.

“You’re mad!” Lee shouted as we sprinted through the hallway.

I felt that rush of happy adrenaline, that feeling of creating anarchy with my friends, and I squeezed his hand tightly. This was it for us. This was our last go.

He squeezed back even tighter.

We weren’t going to get another day. That was obvious. We’d be sent home immediately now, as soon as Umbridge was able to get up and demand it. As we rounded the corner of the corridor, where we’d separate to go to our individual common rooms, we pulled each other in.

I hugged him tightly, shaking with the realization that this was over. My life, as I had dreamed it, was done. His hands wound around me, patting my back in reassurance.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised.

I let out a shaky breath, an almost laugh, but we both knew better. My eyes were damp now, swimming with tears, the last blow that Umbridge had struck had managed to completely shatter me.

She won.

“You’re going to be a creature healer, Aylia,” his dark eyes burned into mine- they were warm. “Whatever it takes, alright?”

I nodded, sniffling lightly and flicking the tears off of my cheeks. This hurt. This hurt more than anything I’d ever felt. If it had been anything but expulsion, I would have found my way around it, refusing to stop until I figured it out, but there was no way to fix this if I was no longer allowed to study.

This was it.

“I’ll see you after,” I promised, giving Lee one more quick hug.

Off we went.

I stormed into the common room in a fury. Tears wanted to keep swimming down my cheeks, but I mustered up the will to stop them. I ignored the curious looks that I was receiving from being so frantic, and went to my dorm, where Beatrice and Florence were waiting for me on Bea’s bed.

“We tidied for you,” Flo said happily, but both of their faces fell when they saw me.

I shook my head, burying my face in my hands, and within seconds they were there. Two sets of arms wound themselves around me, hugging me tightly. Two of the best friends I had made over my seven years at this school. They were loyal, honest, and good to me. I should have spent more time with them.

I let out a shaky sob.

“What’s happened?” Beatrice whispered.

“Umbridge has expelled me,” I said quickly.

Both of them pulled away, stunned. They looked at me, waiting for the punch-line, but my tears and my despair confirmed that this wasn’t a joke. I didn’t much cry, and I didn’t much care about being punished either, but I did care about becoming who I wanted to be. It was one of the only things that had ever mattered.

“For what?” Beatrice shrieked, appalled.

“Was it for the Weasley thing?” Flo asked, just as outraged. “I’ll go and tell her right now that you were with us every day. I’ll _lie,_ Aylia.”

I let out a breath, wiping my face again. “Yes, it was because of that. She had nothing on us, but she doesn’t need to, I guess. She _is_ the Headmaster.”

“Dumbledore will be outraged!” Beatrice shouted.

“Maybe we should get Hagrid?” Flo asked, looking at me for an answer.

I shook my head. “It’s over.”

“It’s _not_ over,” Beatrice said. “You are graduating with us, Aylia. Umbridge will expel you over my dead body.”

I let out a light laugh, realizing that even if they had Dumbledore, Hagrid, and Fred and George claiming that I was innocent- I still destroyed the closet in her office and about two hundred enchanted quills. I also could have injured the Headmaster.

“I kind of used an exploding charm on her office,” I snickered through my tears, laughing even harder when their faces fell with shock. “No more hand tattoos for you guys.”

Beatrice couldn’t help but smile- proud. “You’re a legend.”

Flo looked down at her hand, where words were etched into her skin. “That changes things.”

It did. It was unforgivable. There was absolutely no way anybody would be able to vouch for myself or Lee now that I had damaged the school and used magic against Umbridge. At the very least, I could take my achievement of dismantling part of her power with me as I left.

“Thank you for cleaning my things. I have to get going.”

“Now?” Beatrice asked quietly as I passed her.

I packed my trunk quickly with a wave of my wand. I watched as everything sorted itself, feeling the weight of my necklace against my heart, wishing that I had a chance to say goodbye to everyone I loved at Hogwarts- especially Hagrid and my fairies.

“Surely, it can wait until tomorrow,” Bea added.

I glanced at her, remembering a promise I had made. I reached into my chest of drawers and took out some parchment and a quill. I quickly scrawled some words onto the paper and handed it to Beatrice.

She looked at it and nodded, shoving it into her robes.

Flo didn’t seem to mind that she hadn’t been included, but I knew Bea would fight for her if she had to. I had written a very clear message to Hermione, begging her to allow Beatrice to be a part of the DA to learn to defend herself. She would also be an asset. An incredible one.

If anyone could see reason, it was Granger.

“If not, we’ll start in the summer, alright?” I said softly.

Bea nodded.

I hugged them both goodbye. We lingered with each other, wishing that we could change this. Beatrice’s shoulders began to shake as I thanked her for being my best friend. I realized I had never said those words aloud to her, and that she deserved to hear them.

I lugged my stuff out behind me, begging both of them to stay in the dorms so that I didn’t have to endure a second goodbye. I had lived through far too many send-offs in the last few days, and they were still hurting just the same.

I walked into the common room, trying not to dwell on the fact that it was going to be the last time I saw it. I was grateful it had cleared out, and only two first years still sat on the couch in front of the fire.

I refused to pause. I couldn’t think about the conversations on that very couch, or the parties, or the memories. I had to go.

I was just about out of the room when the door burst open. Draco rushed forward, making me drop my trunk and my wand to the ground. He pushed me backward, his hands on my wrist, eyes wide and panicked.

“ _You bloody idiot!”_ He said quietly. “What the _hell_ were you thinking?”

“ _Get your hands off of me!”_ I seethed, ripping his hand away.

He stared at me, still standing far too close, his chest rising and falling. “ _What did you do_?”

“She expelled me,” I explained, with a shrug. We both knew that I was bothered, despite my attempt to hide it.

Draco’s wide eyes seemed perplexed, beside himself. He couldn’t imagine why what I had done had been remotely necessary.

“So, you demolish her office?” He snapped, searching my face for any sign of reason. “You _send the Headmaster to the Hospital Wing?”_

The students on the couch quickly scurried away into the dorms.

I stared at him in shock, and he realized that I hadn’t known the severity of it. I thought she had maybe gotten a bump to the head, or had the wind knocked out of her, I hadn’t realized she had hit the wall hard enough to send her to the infirmary.

_Bloody fucking hell._

Draco’s face didn’t soften, he didn’t care that I didn’t _intend_ to hurt her, all he wanted to know was why.

“Those quills are gone,” I said plainly. “That’s all I was after.”

He looked sad then, his eyebrows pinching together at the center of his face. He melted, the rigidness in his body slackening as he searched my eyes for a better explanation.

I just didn’t have one.

He reached for me then, cupping my face in his hands. That sadness still etched on his face.

“You idiot,” he whispered.

I swallowed, ignoring the flutter than I felt when his fingers touched my skin. I loved Fred, and I’d never do anything to hurt him, but for some reason when Draco touched me, it made me _feel_ things.

The moment from the other night where he had handled me roughly, ordering me around like I was his house elf, that resentment seemed to seep away as his eyes burned into mine. I wished then that I could understand how I felt about him, about our relationship, but it was too complicated to dwell on.

“Draco,” I said softly, and I tried to find that anger I felt minutes ago. “I have to go.”

“I told you he was no good for you,” he said, still holding my face. He didn’t push forward, and I was grateful, “I could have ensured your future was set in stone.”

“By doing what?” I asked, that flutter I had felt was quickly replaced by a familiar sting of regret. I would not tolerate Draco speaking ill of the twins, or of Lee, and I had made that clear to him multiple times. “Become Umbridge’s little soldier? I had no interest, Malfoy. She had to be stopped and that’s all there is to it.”

“She’s still here,” he said, finally dropping his hands. He gave a disappointed little sigh. “She’s here and you’re gone, Aurora. What exactly did you stop?”

I looked at him then, and I saw him for who he was. He wasn’t evil, and he wasn’t the worst man I’d ever known, he was just a coward. He would bend to the will of anyone’s rule if it meant he’d succeed. He’d never fight against someone in power to earn what he wanted; he’d always blindly follow the herd. Draco would always be his father’s son. He’d never be his own man.

“I have to go,” I said again.

He nodded, and stepped back, rubbing his chin in frustration. His eyes went to the floor, unable to watch as I left the Slytherin common room for the last time.

I passed him easily, still thinking about my friends in their dorms, their hearts broken alongside of mine, and I picked up my things.

But then I thought of the love of my life who would be waiting for me on the other side.

I did not look back as the door shut behind me.

I _had_ gotten something out of that conversation with Malfoy. Umbridge was in the Hospital Wing. That meant I had time.

Lee was standing at the bottom of the dungeon’s steps, leaning against his own trunk. He smirked, bundled up in his jacket and mittens, and seemed to have realized the same thing that I had.

“Heard we have some time,” he grinned, nodding up toward the stairs. “Fancy a visit to our favorite professor?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my favourite chapter of the entire story. I'm not sure why, but now that it's complete and I'm reviewing them before posting- the feelings I feel when I read this one just don't compare to the others. 
> 
> If you guys could leave a comment on this one with your feelings- I'd love to hear them. I'm feeling a little burst of love for these relationships right now, and for Aylia, and so I'd love to talk about it!
> 
> Thank you, as always, you never cease to blow me away.


	41. 41. The Dissapointed Hello

Hagrid was furious with me. He cried, and wailed, and screamed at me for jinxing Umbridge’s office. ‘ _All he had ever wanted for me’_ , he had shouted, ‘I _had pissed it away in a matter of seconds’._

I felt pure shame as I stared at the floor with my shoulders slumped. Lee tried to explain, over Hagrid’s sobs, what had happened from our point of view- but all Hagrid heard was ‘expelled’. I reckoned that Hagrid saw himself in me even more now, being sent away and forbidden from completing school. Neither of us had really deserved it.

Hagrid had wiped his eyes with a handkerchief, that may also have been a dirty paper towel, and made a promise through his blubbering to put a good word in with Dumbledore.

I thanked him kindly, though I wasn’t quite sure what _anyone’s_ word would amount to at this point. Dumbledore couldn’t possibly accept violence against a professor, even if she _was_ the worst.

Hagrid was desperate to have Lee and I stay. He begged to hide us in his hut until he figured out a way to allow us back in school, but neither of us wanted to deal with Umbridge’s wrath once she was out of the Hospital Wing and came to seek us out. We declined, numerous times and with numerous hugs, until eventually Hagrid understood.

It was not what we wanted, but it felt like this chapter was closing and that it was for a reason. There was nothing left to fight for if Hogwarts remained as it was.

So, we left.

Hagrid let me have a few minutes with the fairies, but they didn’t seem to want to come out to see me. I spent that time staring at the trunks as their colors flashed through the cracks- silently thanking them for all the joy that had brought into my life this year. It hurt, to know that I’d leave without another breakthrough with them. I really wanted to feel our connection again. It had been magnificent.

Hagrid wanted to take us into London, but we knew associating him with our departure would put a target on his back. Umbridge would punish him for providing aid, and that’s not something that Hagrid deserved to go through because of my mistake. The two of us left on our own two feet.

We weren’t quite sure where to go, as we had no brooms, and the Hogwarts Express only came four times a year. We had made it to the end of grounds before we turned to look at each other, wondering if we should go back and ask a professor to arrange transport for us. 

Then, suddenly, a big and purple bus appeared out of nowhere, loudly, and slammed on the breaks in front of us.

The door swung open almost immediately.

“Where ‘ya heading?”

Lee stared at the tall, thin man, “Uh?”

“Is this the Knight Bus?” I asked, looking it over and recalling a few mentions of it from other students.

The man rolled his eyes and nodded dramatically. “’Course it is. Where ‘ya heading?”

Where _were_ we heading? Home? Back to my normal muggle life, where I’d have to tell my parents I had gotten nothing out of the school I had given up my muggle life for?

My heart ached. I wasn’t ready for that conversation.

“Diagon Alley?” I asked Lee.

He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded with a shrug. “Sure, Diagon Alley.”

“Number 93,” I specified.

The ride was long, and fast, and chaotic. I had never been on the Knight Bus before, but I had heard about it from Harry one year, and _yes_ it was as terrifying as he had described. Reality seemed to hit both Lee and I when Hogwarts disappeared from view and we could no longer see the peaks of the towers and the owls fluttering in and out of the owlery in the distance.

Lee and I sunk down on one of the cots perched up inside of the bus, and stared out the window numbly as the world passed by in a blur. Neither of us spoke.

“93, Diagon Alley!” The driver shouted and the bus came to a hard, abrupt halt after some time.

I flew forward as the bus lurched hard, stopped from flying through the windshield only by Lee’s hands as he pushed his foot against the back of the driver’s seat to prevent an impact.

We climbed out of the bus, feeling a bit woozy. Our trunks were swiftly tossed out beside us.

As the bus drove away, the pair of us stared upward at the freshly painted orange and purple building. It was multiple stories high, and had boarded up windows and newspaper covered glass. It bared absolutely no identifying information.

Diagon Alley itself was rather quiet for an early afternoon. Lee and I glanced around and saw a few people walking down the lane, peering into the windows of the shops, minding their business as their bags floated behind them.

“Are they even here?” Lee asked, peering up at the windows.

“I haven’t heard any different,” I said. They hadn’t sent a letter conveying that they had decided to go home and with how angry Molly must be- I think they would avoid that confrontation for a while.

A bang erupted from somewhere inside, rattling the windows.

Oh yes, they had to be here.

I slammed my fist on the front door, dust cascading off of it and falling onto my hand.

Lee flinched, looking around again, hoping that nobody would think we were breaking and entering.

I continued banging until the door swung open.

“Oi! _We’re not open_!” Fred shouted, eyes finding his two best friends and their school trunks instead of a nosy shopper. He froze, his eyes narrowing. “The bloody hell are you two doing here?”

I don’t know what happened. I don’t know _why_ it did either. Perhaps I had bottled everything up after saying goodbye to Beatrice and Florence when I should have let it all out, or maybe I _really_ hadn’t realized this was actually happening until I stood in front of Fred, also expelled, and had to face him to tell him that I would not be graduating.

I immediately started to cry. I couldn’t help it, and I hated myself for it, but the floodgates were open and I couldn’t talk myself down. Fred quickly wiped his hands, which were full of grease, on the fabric of his shirt. He pulled me to his chest and stared at Lee, hard and concerned.

“We’ve, uh,” Lee cleared his throat. He was nervous to tell him, nervous for his reaction. “We’ve been expelled.”

Fred’s hands tightened around me, “ _You what?”_

“She assumed we were a part of it,” Lee shrugged, but he felt bad. He had wanted to finish too. “Didn’t really let us explain.”

“No,” Fred said. He said it with such certainty that I almost believed we had gotten it wrong. “Not funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” Lee said plainly.

I clutched Fred’s middle, calming myself down. Umbridge had broken me. I had gone into this year as a person who rarely felt this worn down, this hurt. I had cried more this year than I had in the six previous. I had lost myself, no longer resembling that strong willed girl who was never willing to just back down.

“George!” Fred screamed, back into the shop. He glanced back at Lee. “Come in. Grab her trunk too, will ‘ya mate?”

Lee shuffled beside us, and I heard the sound of our trunks dragging themselves off of the pavement and into the dark shop. Fred’s hand buried itself in my hair, and he gently pulled back to look down at me. He slid his hands to cup my face.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and his eyes were big- full of guilt. “I made sure it wouldn’t come back to you, I never thought she’d- _Merlin,_ she had _no_ reason.”

I sniffled and shook off this feeling of despair. I had my second moment, my second mourning, and that was all that I could allow myself. Tears didn’t change anything, the facts remained the same, I would obtain nothing but more sadness if I kept wallowing.

“She doesn’t need reasons. She’s evil.”

“ _Fuck off!”_ George’s voice erupted from inside.

Lee had shared our story.

I glanced behind Fred, taking in my first glimpse of the shop. It was empty, and surely under construction. There were planks of wood, slabs of material, and boxes all over the floor. Sheets were hung over the mounted furniture, protecting it from dust and paint. I spotted a front desk that they must have just built, but it was unfinished and unstained.

“Show me around?” I asked, wiping at my eyes.

He seemed unsure, but he nodded, slowly wrapping his arms around my shoulder. He guided me inside to his new home. There were paint colors pinned to the wall, and different trial counter tops layered all over the floors. Despite the chaos, I could see their vision.

I craned my neck up their long, angled staircase, where their flat must be, and saw some furniture and orange-colored walls. They had already taken to make this place home.

The potential was obvious. It was a big space with floor-to-ceiling shelving already installed. There was room to place big displays, highlighting their most profitable products. Once the clutter was moved and the decorating began, it wouldn’t take long for the shop to be eye-catching.

George, who was standing with Lee among the boxes, slowly turned to Fred and I.

“Aurs,” he said, his eyes bearing regret. “We didn’t think she’d-.”

“-It’s fine,” I cut him off, raising a hand. I didn’t want to relive this twice, and I surely didn’t want the pair of them to spend this time feeling guilty about my fate while theirs were looking up.

George didn’t look convinced as his eyes skimmed over his brother’s, but he let it go.

“Why don’t we get you some food and some tea?” Fred asked.

“Not quite hungry.”

“We should eat,” Lee nodded, and he started to follow George up the stairs. I followed, numbly, as Fred guided me in the same direction.

Standing in the shop had confirmed one more thing for me. It wasn’t where I was supposed to be for the rest of my life. You could feel Fred and George’s hearts beating as you stood at its center, the entirety of their souls poured into the building. I wanted to feel the same way about my career that they did- and that passion lied in creature healing.

We stepped onto a second landing, and the warmth of the Burrow engulfed me. Warm colors, homely furniture, and just enough of a mess to confirm this space was loved and lived in. There was a small kitchen on the back wall, oak cupboards and a black countertop. The kettle floated over to the stove as we stepped inside the flat.

There was a refinished, square table, and four chairs- and the table was littered with boxes and wires and flashing strings of light. George waved his wand and all of the clutter floated off the table and into their respective boxes, which were lined on the wall beside the door that led to a bedroom.

There were bookshelves littered with different charms, jinxes, and transfiguration materials- all books that related to the things they would create, and different product proto-types shoved inside of the nooks and crannies in between the texts.

“Sit, darling,” Fred said gently, pulling out one of the chairs.

I peered over my shoulder, where the kitchen stretched into a small living room. There were two brown leather couches and a red-wooden floor. There were move shelves, and more boxes, and photos littering the wall. My eyes caught a wooden sign hanging among the photographs, carved and painted by my own hand, _Weasley’s Wicked Wizard Tricks._

“One black tea for the lady,” George said, sliding my cup in front of me. “Three sugars, 1 milk for the not-lady.”

He placed the tea in front of Lee, who took it eagerly. He seemed to brighten being around the twins again, quickly coming out of his slump. I was quite the opposite.

Fred quickly sat in the seat next to me, his arm winding around the back of my chair. I could feel his eyes on me, calculating me with worry, wondering when I was going to crack. He wanted to ask questions, to sort this out and find a way back, but seemed uncertain if he should push.

It was not that easy.

George waved his wand and the fridge opened; sandwiches began to prepare themselves. White bread, ham and turkey, cheese and an array of condiments. He barely glanced back over at it as he pulled out the seat across from me and looked at Lee and I expectantly.

“Explain,” he said quietly.

My eyes fluttered to the table. I felt ashamed.

“Uh,” Lee said, carefully glancing at me. He placed his cup back down. “She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sent Malfoy for us, gave us these letters saying we were expelled because we were involved in the Wiz Bang thing. I tried to explain but she wouldn’t hear it, and then Aylia…”

He trailed off.

All three of them slowly looked to me.

I glanced up at George, “I blew up her office.”

Fred smacked his hand on the table, loudly and proud. They both burst into laughter, exhilarated at the idea of Umbridge’s stuff being exploded into dust in retaliation for her punishment.

Lee looked down quickly.

“She’s in the Hospital Wing,” I added quietly.

The laughter stopped almost immediately. George’s face fell, his smile completely vanishing.

I felt Fred freeze beside me. The silence stretched between us, and I was horribly uncomfortable, so I finally reached for my tea and took a shaky sip. As soon as the warmth hit my belly, I felt a tiny bit of comfort before it was ripped away.

“You blew up her office with her _inside?”_ Fred asked. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or not.

“She blew up her _closet,”_ Lee tried to help, offering some reason. “She destroyed the rest of the quills. The impact sent Umbridge to the wall. It can’t be serious, really.”

George let out a choking sound, still wanting to laugh. We all knew that she had deserved it, and that we’d all have probably done it if it meant ridding Hogwarts of those quills, but the unfunny, unfortunate fact remained: we were still expelled.

“Send an owl to Ron,” Fred said quickly, looking to George. “Ask for an update on Umbridge. If she’s fine, we’ll get some of the Order to plea for their return.”

“No,” I shook my head softly. “Don’t bother them with something trivial-,”

“- _Trivial?”_ Fred seethed, staring at me in disbelief. “Do you want to be a bloody creature healer or not?”

“Of course-,” I choked out.

“-Then send the _bloody_ owl, George!” Fred shouted, and Lee and I both jumped despite ourselves.

I stared at George, who slowly pushed his chair back, looking mighty uncomfortable. I continued to stare at his empty chair while he trudged through the living room to where his room must be located.

“Blowing up her office with her inside,” Fred muttered, shaking his head. He recoiled his hand from my chair. “Are you mad?”

“I was already expelled,” I grumbled.

He stood then, tossing his chair back with the force. He stared down at me, “ _But we could have helped you! You didn’t have to assault a fucking professor!”_

George slowed as he re-entered the kitchen, “Easy, Freddie. It’s more our fault than theirs.”

Fred kicked his chair back waving his brother off, “Cheers, George. I’m quite aware.”

He stormed out of the kitchen, throwing open the door on the left and slamming it just as fiercely behind him. I jumped again, my eyes slowly averting back to the table.

I should have just gone home. Being scolded by my parents would have hurt less.

“He’ll get over it,” George said gently, sitting back down across from me. The sandwiches landed in front of us, and the thought of eating made my stomach hurt. “Bit of a shock, that’s all. Can’t say we wouldn’t have done the same.”

I looked at him, defeated. The difference was that they hadn’t ruined their own lives, but I had ruined both mine and Lee’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers!


	42. 42. The Second Vision

I was wrapped up in blankets on the twins’ couch when the sound of Fred’s bedroom door opening echoed through the flat. It was late afternoon, and hours had passed since he had shut himself inside of it.

Lee, who was sitting opposite me on the other couch, could see through the kitchen to Fred emerging from his room. He quickly looked at me with wide eyes.

Fred trudged into the living room then, in PJ bottoms and a black t-shirt. He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, glancing at the radio that was commentating on a Quidditch game that Lee and George were following.

He glanced at Lee, then at George seated beside me.

“Can I have a minute?”

“’Course,” George nodded, standing up with a groan of a stretch. He glanced down at Lee, who seemed eager for direction. “Want to head to the shops? I need a couple of things anyhow.”

Lee nodded, and the two stood, avoiding my eyes as they left the room and descended down the steps into the shop. Fred was still staring at the radio when the sound of the shop’s door shutting closed echoed through the room.

He sighed, and walked over to shut off the radio. Then he turned to me, his eyes tired but not sympathetic. He was still mad.

“Why did you do it?” He whispered.

I met his eyes, feeling small beneath his gaze. “I got angry.”

“Yeah, well,” he laughed bitterly, dropping his hand. “We all get angry; you have to learn to contain that when it matters.”

“I was expelled anyway,” I said again.

He rubbed his face, trying his hardest to stay calm. “That part is my fault. I would have fixed it for you. I _could_ have. But blowing up the Headmaster? I don’t think there is anything I can do to get you out of this.”

“Then that’s the bed I made and I will have to lie in,” I shrugged, wishing he could feel how regretful I was in my own heart. I didn’t want this either. I was just as disappointed in myself as he was.

“ _No,”_ Fred said, and walked to the couch, kneeling in front of me. He placed his hands on my knees and stared up at me. “It’s the bed that _I_ made for you. Now I have to figure out a way to make sure you go back.”

“It’s done,” I said quietly.

Fred shook his head, reached up to place a gentle fist to my cheek. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I _am_ one of Umbridge’s favorite students. My words have weight.”

I smirked, stifling a laugh. Leave it to Fred to be angry at me hours ago and come back and immediately cheer me up.

He relaxed, dropping his hands back into my lap.

“Sorry for yelling.”

I reached for his hands, squeezing them. “Sorry for fucking it up.”

‘Ah,” he said with a shrug, moving to sit beside me on the couch. “It’s what we do, isn’t it?”

I turned to him as he leaned back on the couch, looking both exhausted and overwhelmed. It was a shame that reuniting hadn’t been the happiest of occasions.

At the very least, I had him and George, and Lee. That constant would not change. Everything could be taken away, but none of us would allow anyone to come between us.

His eyes flickered to mine, curious as to why I was staring. But then he smiled, “You thinking about kissing me, Aurora?

I turned my body on the couch to face him, pulling my hair behind my ear, “Well it _is_ quite rude that you haven’t yet.”

Fred grinned, and he leaned forward slowly, his eyes flickering to my lips. He didn’t stop that satisfied grin until his lips were on mine, and even then, I felt that smile in his kiss. I leaned into him, my hands on the sides of his neck, pulling him to me.

He pushed forward, crawling on top of me until I was lying on my back. One hand went beside my head, and his other on the armrest to hold himself up. Fred deepened the kiss, and I melted underneath him.

All I felt was fireworks.

He pulled away for a moment, moving to kiss my jaw, and then my neck. I let out a noise, a desperate noise, not stopping to care that we were on the couch in the living room of the flat that he shared with his brother.

He froze, his lips under my ear, and drew up to look at me.

“What?” I whispered, reaching for him.

“That was-,” he started, but a knocking rang out somewhere near.

I glanced beside us, to the living room wall as though someone would be standing there slamming their fists against the fresh orange paint. Fred hovered above me, staring out the kitchen entryway, listening.

A few more light knocks.

Fred shot up like a bat out of hell and ran into George’s room, “The owl! It’s Ron!”

~*~

Lee and George returned about an hour later. They seemed weary as they approached, loudly announcing their return. As they climbed the steps with a box full of pastries, they both seemed confused as to why we were around the table again, back to drinking tea.

“What’s happened?” Lee asked.

“You didn’t split up, did you?” George asked cautiously, placing the pastries in between us. “She _did_ get expelled for you, mate.”

“Ron sent an owl,” Fred said quietly, passing the piece of paper to George, whose eyes immediately skimmed the words written by his younger brother’s hand.

Lee’s face paled. “Oh blimey, you’ve killed her, haven’t you?”

“Umbridge is fine, but something’s happening. Harry’s had another vision.” Fred assured him quickly.

“ _Another_?” Lee asked softly, taking the paper from George.

“Ron didn’t say what,” I said as Lee read the parchment. “I’m sure he’s worried the mail is being monitored.”

“Don’t blame him,” George grumbled, pulling off his coat. He pulled out a chair and sat. “Whole bloody Ministry is corrupt.”

“Reckon it’s mum or dad?” Fred asked his twin.

“Surely, he’d have said so,” I reassured him, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

Lee paused, glancing at the three of us. “Do we just… wait?”

“We can write to the Order,” Fred said.

“Even start with your parents,” I offered.

I wasn’t sure what help any of them would give us. Harry having visions didn’t necessarily mean that something bad _was_ going to happen, but we could easily recall what had happened the last time he endured one. Plus, there was no saying for certain that Molly, Arthur, or the Order even knew what was happening yet. We might have been Ron’s first contact.

Ron’s message seemed quick, panicked:

“ _She’s fine, back to treating us like dogs. Harry had a vision. Something is coming. Always keep your family safe, even the ones you choose.”_

“Why would he specify _your_ family, though?” Fred frowned, shaking his head. That part had bugged him since his first read. “Our family _is his_ family.”

“Generic message?” Lee asked.

“Ron wouldn’t bother,” George said, looking trumped as well. He pried open the box of pastries and pulled one out, biting into it.

“Unless he’s talking about Lee and I since he knows we’re here now,” I said. I reached for a pastry as well, my hunger finally overpowering my pain. I took a bite and my stomach rumbled, thanking me.

“Maybe,” Fred nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced.

We fell into an eerie silence, easting the desserts and staring at the note in front of us. All of us were thinking deeply, knowing that Ron hadn’t sounded like Ron in that letter, and there had to have been a message lying behind those seemingly plain words.

_Even the ones you choose._

It didn’t seem like a warm lecture that Ron would ever include in a letter. He’d never been the sentimental type. Apparently, his brothers thought so as well. Had someone intercepted the mail and sent it as a gag? Surely not. I wasn’t even sure how many people knew about the connection between the Ministry attack on Arthur and Harry’s visions.

I would also reckon that Ron wasn’t too worried about the group of us if we were together, not enough to send us a warning. It was possible that he was just concerned about our expulsions, but again, that note carried an undertone of dread and Ron had barely even cared about his brother’s leaving school. An expulsion was hardly _that_ severe.

“The hell is he moaning about family for?” George whispered, leaning on his hand. It was the first one of us had spoken in minutes. “He barely answered my letter.”

“He didn’t?” Fred asked with a frown.

George shook his head, “I asked for an update on Umbridge, and for information going around about the expulsion so we had some details to use to our advantage. So we could bring it to the Order.”

The Order.

I hadn’t thought about it when we talked about them earlier, but something crossed my mind then.

My heart stilled.

I shot up, snatching the piece of paper into my hands. I re-read the words: “ _She’s fine. She’s back to treating us like dogs. Harry had a vision. Something is coming. Always keep your family safe, even the ones you choose”._

I peered over the paper, where three sets of eyes stared at me. Lee was mid-bite on some form of cannoli, eyes wide.

I shook the piece of paper, “Like a _dog._ Family you _choose.”_

They all stared, afraid to move. Lee hesitantly swallowed his mouthful of baking.

“It’s Sirius.”

Fred’s face flooded with realization. Animagus, a dog. Of course! Sirius was Harry’s godfather, family that was chosen for him, family that he was continuing to choose.

Ron _had_ been giving us a message.

Something was happening with Sirius. Harry’s vision had been about Sirius.

George stood quickly, rushing to his room. He was now most definitely writing to both his parents and the Order. My hands shook, placing the note from Ron back on the table, as though it would burn me if I held it too long.

I couldn’t stop picturing a giant snake attacking Sirius, the only family that Harry had left, leaving him battered and bruised like it had left Arthur. Maybe this time, Harry hadn’t envisioned it on time.

“Well, if you don’t become a healer, you could become a private investigator,” Lee said with a tone of admiration, taking another big bite of canolli.

Fred let out a sound of utter annoyance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the love!
> 
> We have some new readers, hi! So happy to hear from some of you. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. We're getting close to the end!


	43. 43. The Death of Sirius Black

We disapparated to the Burrow as soon as we got the letter from Molly. It was urgent, nothing but: _Come home now._

We didn’t stop to get our things together or to change our clothing. We had been ready to get to bed, all dressed in our night clothes, enjoying a few drinks in each other’s company before retrieving for the evening.

Fred latched onto my hand tightly as we stood in the kitchen of their flat. His fear was palpable. There was an unmistaken feeling as the four of us stared at each other, none of us daring to speak, ready for George to send us to their home. It felt like someone was dead.

George smacked his hand on Fred’s arm, and we were suddenly flying through time and space, our insides being squished together and distorted. My hands tightened around Fred and Lee, feeling like my ribs were going to be crushed, but then we dropped hard onto the grass.

I sucked in a breath, clasping my stomach. I loathed that feeling.

We were in the field just outside of the Burrow. The lights were on, but we couldn’t see any movement inside. I had a dreadful feeling, wondering why Molly and Arthur weren’t at Grimmauld place, wondering why we had to come.

We all took off for the front door at the same time. Our feet sloshed in the puddles in the grass, wet from this evening’s rain. Fred got to the door first, tossing it open, nearly hitting George in the face with it as he rushed inside. Lee and I trailed behind, just at their heels.

Molly was at the kitchen table. She was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief while Arthur was murmuring to somebody around the corner.

“Oh, my boys!” she shouted, jumping to her feet. A fresh wave of tears came then. Whatever anger she had directed at her sons for leaving school, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. She wrapped them both tightly in a hug.

“Mum,” Fred said wearily, rubbing her back.

“Oh, it’s awful,” she said softly, shaking her head. Her eyes found Lee and I. She sniffled and let her sons go, reaching for the both of us next. “I’m so glad you are all okay. Arthur’s talking to Remus now.”

“Mum,” George said again, echoing his brother.

Arthur came into the room, pressing down on his sweater vest, holding his wand in his hand. He looked ashen, devastated.

“Hi kids,” he said gently.

I was brought back to my own kitchen at home, when my Uncle Dave had died suddenly in a motorbike accident when I was seven. The feeling in that room felt identical to the feeling in this quiet kitchen right now, where Molly was watching her sons as though if she blinked, they’d be gone.

Arthur put down his wand at the table, and seeing as Remus didn’t join the room too, he had been communicating with him from a distance.

“What’s happened?” Fred asked.

Molly glanced at her husband, then back to her children. “Sirius is dead, dear.”

My arms erupted in goose pimples as the news hit my ears. I sucked in a sharp breath, shutting my eyes tightly.

Oh, Harry. He had just become so close with his godfather. He had been so excited to spend his summer with him, the first with a proper family. He had been so excited to learn more about James from one of his closest friends.

He kept losing. It wasn’t fair.

“Bloody hell,” George whispered, taking a step back.

“It’s awful,” Molly choked out, and she started to cry again, wiping her eyes.

“Was Harry’s vision of Sirius dying then?” Fred asked.

Arthur shook his head, gently guiding Molly back to her chair in her grief, “A ruse, it was. The Order went to aid them. Death Eaters were there, of course, and Sirius… well.”

Fred and George seemed stunned to silence.

That familiar need to comfort them swept over me again, but as I glanced at Molly, who was utterly heartbroken, and Arthur who was trying to keep her afloat, this became about more than just Fred and George. It was about all of them. 

I immediately pushed passed their frozen children and into the kitchen.

I touched Arthur’s arm, gently.

“Sit, Mr. Weasley. I’ll prepare you some tea while we wait on news.”

Arthur blinked, a bit taken aback, but he nodded gratefully and sat next to his wife, holding her.

I went to the kitchen, grateful for magic, and pulled all necessary ingredients to the counter. I tried to listen to their soft voices as Fred, George and Lee sat with Molly and Arthur, but I can admit that I was grateful to miss pieces of it.

There wasn’t a day that went by where somebody wasn’t being hurt, or killed, or forced into mourning sooner than they should be. Even a two-minute break from the agony to make tea was a welcome blessing.

When I was done, I sent the kettle, the mugs, and all of the rest to the table with a flick of the wrist. Though it had taken little effort on my part, I paused for just a moment, facing out the window into the yard of the Burrow. I shut my eyes, reminding myself to hold it together for everyone else for the time being. That was my job now, I had to do it well.

I went back to the kitchen and sunk into the chair next to Fred.

He was stirring his sugars in his tea as he listened to his father, and he draped an arm over my shoulder, pulling me to him. He placed a soft kiss to my temple.

I smiled, reaching for his hand as it hung over my shoulder and in front of my chest. I caught Molly’s eye. She looked away quickly, but I had seen the look of surprise that flashed across her face, which was immediately followed by a small smile.

“Thank you for the tea,” George nodded at me. “Thanks for getting that for mum.”

I nodded, nuzzling into Fred’s arm, watching all of them drink and relax a bit in their seats.

Grimmauld place wasn’t safe. Arthur said the Order feared that with Sirius dead, it now belonged to Bellatrix, and since she was at large it was an extreme risk to visit. The last thing that Harry had of his godfather was also taken away from him just as quickly.

I was almost falling asleep on Fred’s shoulder when he jumped up abruptly, and rushed out of his seat. Panicked, I jumped up too, noticing how everyone had run to the door with their wands drawn.

I pointed my own wand at the door of the Burrow, blinking away the haziness behind my eyes.

Ron crashed through the door, his arms around his sullen best friend. Harry was white, pale as a ghost, his eyes bloodshot and blank. I stepped out of the way, taking Fred’s hand in mine as I ducked behind him. He squeezed back.

Hermione and Ginny were right behind him, Hermione dabbing her own eyes, flanked by Lupin and Tonks. Lupin hugged Molly and Arthur gently, and the pain in his face was as clear as an afternoon sky down at Hagrid’s hut. He murmured something about how the rest had gone with Dumbledore and the Minister- but he couldn’t leave Harry.

Ron guided Harry to the couches. Harry fell like a stone onto the cushions as soon as Ron let him go, staring at nothing.

The Boy Who Lost Everyone.

It wasn’t fair. I wished that I could take even an ounce of his pain from him.

My own eyes prickled as I watched Ron try to talk to him, a brotherly hand on his back.

Ginny came to her brothers, who gave her a quick hug each. She reached for me, and I reached for her, grateful that she was okay. As she hugged Lee, she glanced over her shoulder to Harry and lowered her voice.

“They knew we’d come,” she said, and I was surprised at her composure. “They were all there. Lucius, Bellatrix, the lot of them. It was her- Bellatrix, hit him with a curse and pushed him through that… veil.”

I swallowed, dropping my eyes. She spoke to Fred and George for a moment before going directly to Harry, taking his hand in hers as she flanked his other side.

Hermione dropped herself onto the cushions next to Ron, and she leaned toward him, like he was her comfort source.

“Let’s go then,” I said quietly, letting go of Fred.

I walked through the Order, to the living room, where Harry’s eyes saw me without seeing me. I slowly lowered myself in front of him, watching as his eyes came back to focus.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” I said quietly, and I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders while I was still kneeling. His arms hugged me back. “Anything I can do, anything at all, please don’t hesitate.”

“You got rid of those quills didn’t you?” he grumbled in my ear as I pulled away. I paused, uncertain, and his lips curled into a small smile. “You’ve done enough.”

I smiled, pulling away.

“Take her up on it,” Fred said as he clasped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Make her wipe your arse for a week.”

“We _are_ sorry, mate,” George added gently as Harry managed a laugh.

Fred, George and Lee took seats around our friends, and I went back to doing what I felt I had to do. I went to the kitchen, counting the amount of new faces, including Lupin and Tonks.

I waved my wand to prepare the kettle, but as I stared out the windows into my own reflection- all I could think about is how Lucius and Bellatrix deserved to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> This is the second-last chapter of the story! 
> 
> Please take a peek at "The Sky Will Cry," which has been posted but is chapter-less at the moment- THIS is the sequel (if you're interested).


	44. 44. The Light in the Darkness

We were back at the shop, living a normal life, building Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes after the chaos of the attack and the sorrow from the funeral. It seemed cruel to return to life as usual after someone had been ripped so cruelly from us.

It had only been a few days since Sirius’ passing, and those who were permitted to had returned to Hogwarts for their final days of the term. It still hung in the air around us, that grief, and it lingered alongside a deepening sense of fear. We had to keep pushing.

We had lost somebody important. That would not change, and there would be more. We would take as many ‘normal’ moments as we could get before there weren’t any left to seize. Fixing and tidying up the shop was so mundane that is was a comfort in itself.

I wiped my brow as I finished the last coat of purple for the walls of the entryway. Lee had gone a day ago, back to his family, but I was still so unsure of my future and so upset by what had happened, that I decided to stay with the twins until we all healed a bit more. It was nice here. It felt like home.

“Reckon you could have done it with your wand,” Fred said, but he knew that I had been excited to put my mind to something, to spend a few hours mindlessly doing the same, muggle task.

I turned to him, my hands on my hips as I had appreciated my work. He was installing new shelving units, and was doing so seamlessly with a flick of his wand.

“Needed to take my mind off of things,” I admitted, because that is what I _do_ now as an adult witch with a partner. I talk about my feelings.

Fred dropped his wand on the counter and walked to me, placing his hands firmly on his hips to mirror my stance, and he gazed at the purple, muggle-painted walls. He stuck out his bottom lip, nodding with appreciation.

“You know what?” he said, turning to me. “Best paint job I’ve ever seen.”

I smirked, “Yeah?”

He reached behind me, and I leaned up- thinking he was about to kiss me, but he pulled back just as quickly and swiped his finger down my nose. It was wet, and it _stunk,_ and I didn’t have to look very hard to see the dark purple color in between my eyes.

“I’ll Avada Ka-d word you,” I warned as I narrowed my eyes, wiping the paint off with the sleeve of my jumper.

He let out a throaty laugh and reached for my face, placing his big hands on my cheeks, definitely getting paint in my hair and on my skin. Fred pulled me toward him, just rough enough. He kissed me like he always did, with every ounce of love that he could muster.

My hands trailed up to his forearms, sinking into him.

‘Oi!”

Fred pulled away and turned, his hands still on either side of my face. I glanced to the stairs, where George was standing on the platform between the two sets of steps. He was waving a letter in his hands.

“Think you can come up for air longer enough to come and see this?” he said, waving us over.

He met us at the bottom of the stairs, and handed me the letter. I saw my name written across the parchment in perfect penmanship. I froze, spinning it around to see the green Hogwarts seal staring me in the face.

“Reckon that’s important,” George said as I gawked at it.

I felt the bubble of happiness deflate in me a bit, “Likely a copy of my expulsion letter, since mine was destroyed.”

Fred leaned across the hand rail of the steps. He rested his chin on his arms, looking positively hopeful, “Go on.”

I swallowed, opening the letter, expecting to see the same words Umbridge had written on the parchment that I had crumpled and thrown away. Only it wasn’t. The handwriting was different, and as my eyes skimmed down to the bottom of the letter- I saw Dumbledore’s signature in place of hers.

“It’s from Dumbledore,” I whispered.

Fred perked up, eyes wide. He immediately rushed to my side, clasping me on the shoulders, reading the letter over my ear.

_Dear Ms. Aurora,_

_I would like to extend my deepest apologies for the events that occurred during your last term at Hogwarts. As I was not occupying the position of Headmaster at the time, I had been informed of the acting Headmaster’s actions upon my return._

_Throughout your seven years at Hogwarts, I have known you to be an exceptional student, and an extraordinary witch. You have a heart destined to work with creatures, and a mind that is willing to absorb all the necessities that the world requires of you. Not only that, but you have shown time and time again that you are loyal to a fault, you will stand up to both friend or foe, even if it is the most difficult thing to do. Your ambition is to be admired- even by the most experienced professors, and you ensure that the world is always aware of your strength._

_Although your return was immediately requested by Professor Hagrid, it was Mr. Malfoy who sealed your fate. As the only eye witness apart from Professor Umbridge and Mr. Jordan, Mr. Malfoy confirmed that you were being questioned by him at the time of the notorious event that took place during fifth-year examinations, and that Professor Umbridge had raised her wand to threaten you in her office before you raised yours._

_While I can never endorse using magic against a Professor, I do have sufficient evidence to confirm that you were thoroughly provoked throughout the entirety of your seventh year at Hogwarts, and that the actions of a Hogwarts professor on my staff resulted in the downfall of your education._

_Although I cannot change what has already passed, I hope to right the injustice that you have faced. I invite both you and Mr. Jordan to complete your final term at Hogwarts in the Fall._

_I await your owl. The creatures await your return._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster_

Fred must have finished reading the letter a second after me because suddenly he was shouting, and I was being picked up by my middle and lifted into the air.

I let out a shriek of a laugh, tears springing to my eyes, and tossed the letter to George as Fred spun me around in his arms, who immediately began to read.

I was now facing Fred, his arms latched around my thighs, holding me above him. I felt an overwhelming relief sweep through me, and an unmet and unmatched sense of love.

I stared down at the love of my life, cupping his jaw in my hands. I felt his laugh lines under my fingertips as his grin grew. The smile on my lips was so large that it hurt.

“I’m going back?” I asked breathlessly, too stunned to believe it to be true.

He nodded- was that a twinkle in his eye, or was he tearing up too?

“You better bloody believe it,” he said.

As George let out a shout of excitement behind us, I leaned down, still in Fred’s arms and off of the ground, and kissed him quickly. Then I kissed him again, and again, and again, until he was laughing and I was kissing every inch of his face.

His cheek.

His forehead.

His nose.

His jaw.

A snapping sound broke through the room beside us. George screamed loudly in shock, and Fred let out a yelp and dropped me to the floor.

I landed roughly on my feet, looking for the source of the noise.

Lee stood in front of us, dressed in his PJ’s and with his dreads pulled back and away from his face. He was clutching a letter, his face aghast, eyes wide. He looked like a young boy who had just walked in on his parents snogging- he was stunned to silence.

His eyes slid from Fred and I, to George who was still clutching my letter from Dumbledore.

“Did the mail reach you?” He asked quickly, eyes glued onto me. “Do they know you’re here? Do they have your address? If Hogwarts sends mail to your home, you have to apparate there no-.”

“-I got it too!” I said excitedly, jumping up and down on the spot.

“Oh, bloody hell,” He let out a laugh and rushed forward, hugging me tightly.

It was hard not to let out childlike excitement take over. We had thought this next to impossible- but _it had happened._ We jumped around on our toes, shaking our limbs out like we were jinxed with a tickling hex. We couldn’t stop laughing in utter shock, the same breathtaking laugh that took over when we were deep in mischief, adrenaline taking over. We were both _extremely_ grateful for these hundredth chances that we just kept getting.

When we pulled away, Lee glanced at his letter again and his brow furrowed as though just remembering something.

“Any reason Malfoy chose to blatantly _lie_ to Dumbledore?”

I froze.

In my excitement to go back, I had forgotten about what Dumbledore had said about Malfoy. Draco had lied for us, _twice._ And he was supposed to _hate_ us to the point of wanting to watch us fail. He should have been basking in our expulsions, not pleading with the Headmaster to allow us back.

As three sets of eyes turned to me, expectantly, waiting for some logical explanation.

I felt my cheeks flush.

Not good.

Fred raised an eyebrow as my skin turned pink.

“Draco and I are, and I use this term loosely, _friendly,”_ I said, and I watched Lee’s eyebrows skyrocket and Fred’s frown deepen. “We’d chat in the common room from time to time, he stopped me from hexing Esmerelda, things like that- so I reckon his father’s involvement in Sirius’ death was on his conscience a bit.”

George reached up to scratch the back of his head, his eyes locked on his twin.

“ _Friendly_?” Fred asked.

I nodded, suddenly wishing I had mentally prepared myself for this question when I had read over the letter.

I hated myself, _truly_ , as I met my boyfriend’s eyes and forced a smile. I should have told him then and there about the few times that Draco and I had kissed in seventh year, before Fred and I were even a thing, but I couldn’t do it.

Our fight in the bar still lived at the back of my mind, and it was not hard to recall how it had ruined our relationship for months. How could I leave _any_ doubt in his mind before I went back to school with Draco for the Fall? Especially over something that was dead in the water.

I couldn’t.

“I mean, she wasn’t necessarily _nice_ to him,” Lee let out a laugh. “So, what kind of friends does he have if he’d save your ass over _that?”_

That seemed to perk Fred up, and he smiled a bit. He couldn’t be too angry when that git that he hated had been able to get me and Lee back into school when we had expected our future to be quite dim. 

“I can’t believe we’re going back,” I said again.

Lee nodded, smiling just as big as I was. I did not think Lee would care quite enough to go back after all he’d dealt with in seventh year, but it was obvious that this meant just as much to him.

“Celebrations are in order!” George shouted from the stairs, raising his arms. “Firewhiskey, upstairs- let’s go!”

Fred reached for me, cupping his hand around my neck, and pulled me to him. He planted a wet kiss on my forehead as Lee and George disappeared inside of the kitchen at the top of the steps.

“Let’s get drunk and you can take advantage of me,” Fred whispered, wiggling his eyebrows.

I smirked, knowing that was _exactly_ what we had been doing every night since I turned up on the shop’s door. In his room above the shop, we were finally alone for the first time in our lives, locked behind a door of a _very_ private room. Every morning I’d tip-toe out for coffee, trying to ignore the tired expressions of a _very_ over-it George as he glared at me above the _Daily Prophet_.

I pressed my lips slowly to Fred’s, my hand resting flat on his chest, just above his heart. I let my lips linger on his as we pulled away.

“How am I going to go months without taking advantage of you?” I whispered.

After being alone with him, after touching his skin and consuming each other every second that we were able, I was going to have to just _quit_ him cold turkey. This was our bloody honeymoon stage; it was nearly criminal to expect me to survive this. I wanted more before it was stripped away completely for _months_.

Fred kissed me quickly again, “Well you owe Malfoy and Hagrid at least _one_ snog now. That might tide you over- but I draw the line at snogging. You’re forbidden from doing what _we’ve_ been doing.”

~*~

The summer had been utter bliss. I had gone home for a few visits, a tall redhead in tow, and spent some time with my family- but the majority of my time was spent at the shop with the twins and Lee.

How quickly the shelves had filled was impressive. It was to the point where the twins had to decide which things _not_ to sell in the first few months.

I also spent a lot of time with Flo and Beatrice, going to Beatrice’s family farm twice a week to start teaching the pair of them the basics that we had learned in DA. It was nice seeing them, and it made miss them in those moments that I wasn’t with them and needed a girl’s ear. Mostly, though, it made me dread going back to Hogwarts without them.

The store was colorful, loud, and magical. The hype surrounding it’s opening was growing by the day. We’d be stocking shelves or cleaning the floors and we’d see little eyes peering in through the paper on the window, desperate for a glimpse at the products on the shelves.

On opening day, it had been so crazy that eight hours went by in a blur. I stationed myself upfront at the cash register, and saw nearly everyone I had known from Hogwarts, from Beatrice and Flo- who came to say hello and support the twins, to the whole of Gryffindor house who seemed incredibly proud to share the same house as the store owners.

By the time George flipped the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED,’ some shelves had been completed emptied, the cash register was overflowing, and the store looked like a bomb had gone off inside of it.

I pulled my curls up into a messy bun on the top of my head, sweating from every crevice, and I counted the last of the money earned from the day.

I smiled, scratching it down onto the paperwork. If Fred and George had needed to buy me a shop, they could buy me 5 by the end of the week. I felt that swell of pride in my chest.

Fred’s eyes widened as he walked up behind me, looking at the number. He wound his arms around me from behind and I flicked my wand to lock the register.

He rested his head on my shoulder, squeezing me to his chest.

“Thank you for your help,” He mumbled.

I placed my hands over his, leaning into his touch, “Everyone _did_ just buy things so they could come and talk to me. You’re welcome.”

He let out a light laugh, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

We stood there for a while, staring at the now vacant shop. The enchanted broom made a whisper as it cleaned the floor. The stock from the back floated in to fill the shelves for tomorrow morning. It seemed odd now, that the place was so quiet. The shop had been full of love while it was flooded with people, and it was just as full of love now as the pair of us stood in silence and took in what he had created.

The lights were dim, the blinds drawn, but you could still feel the life surging through this place. As the darkness seeped in even further, stealing all of the good that it could get its hands on, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was a beacon of light at number 93 Diagon Alley.

George poked his head down from their flat, “Tea’s ready.”

Fred nodded at him and he popped back up, but we didn’t move. It seemed poetic, standing in this space that they created from nothing, knowing the impact that it just had on customers- especially students returning to school. I could feel the dread that those students felt now that the Ministry was acknowledging Voldemort’s return and they had to return to studies. It was a blessing to be able to shop for some happiness to bring with you in your trunk.

“I’m proud of you,” I whispered.

Fred’s hands tightened around my frame, “Stop that before I get weepy.”

I smiled, trying to save this moment to my memories. This peaceful, happy moment, filled with so much love that it almost felt sinful to keep to myself.

Fred’s lips were in my hair again, “I reckon you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. This is the second.”

“Yeah?” I asked softly.

I felt him nod against me, “Mum even told me so, after you took care of everyone at home. So now I definitely can’t get rid of you.”

“Tea’s getting cold! Stop staring at the bloody wall!”

I laughed under my breath, dropping my arms. The other guy who ran this shop _did_ deserve to spend a bit of time celebrating with his brother.

~*~

“This seems absolutely cruel,” I muttered, watching a group of first-years scurry by with sickly, frightened faces. Parents shouted orders at their kids, who were weaving in and out of the crowd toward the train.

I sneered as the train erupted in a whistle, looking up in disdain at Fred.

He smirked. He was trying his hardest to act like he found absolutely _none_ of this even slightly amusing. Here I was, going back to school when my peers were entering the workforce, the second oldest student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry. This was _his_ nightmare that I was living.

“You’ll have Lee,” he said, and then shrugged. “Plus, if people mistake you for their nan, you can probably get away with your fair share. Maybe Zonko’s will give you an elderly discount.”

I smacked him roughly in the chest, trying to hide my laugh. I had been wrong, a year ago, when I thought it would be my last first day. Here I was, an eighth year, having to repeat a few months because Umbridge had scrubbed my final term records clean and there was no record of my progress.

But just like the last first day, there was a darkness clouding this one- worse than before. I would be leaving Fred, and I would be leaving George- and I would be doing so in the midst of Voldemort’s return. It felt like I should stay near them.

But I hadn’t fought so hard just to give up now. If I wanted to be a creature healer, it wasn’t going to be handed to me, I’d have to give it my all for a couple of months. The work would be worth it. The distance would be worth it.

I was grateful for a second chance.

The train whistled again, signaling that it was almost time to go. All of the stragglers left on the platform should be heading for the train if they wanted to be on it when it left. The yelling of the parents increased- urgent now, and students started to sprint to the train. A small boy hit my shoulder, pushing me sideways, and his mother looked apologetically at me as she ushered the rest of her crying children.

Fred peered up at the clock on the platform wall, “You should get going, love.”

I nodded, though I didn’t quite want to and I wasn’t quite ready.

“I should.”

Fred raised his eyebrows. Instead of moving I just glared at another group of first-years in utter agony as their robes slipped off of their shoulders and they tripped over the bottom of them, dropping their books in their hurry.

They were so young, and I was so old and out of place.

“You’re there for one reason,” Fred said, snapping me back to our conversation. “Get your work done and get out of there.”

“I just wish I could take you with me.”

“What’ya mean?” he asked, his face scrunched up in confusion. He stepped forward, scooping his finger under the chain of my necklace until the pendant popped up above the collar of my jumper. “I’ll be right here.”

“Remind George to rip off the invoices and file them, yeah?” I said as the train whistled again. Fred only nodded. “And _stop_ letting groups of girls use the loo- they are _stealing.”_

Fred smiled, nodding while he rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, get going.”

I sighed, a pulling feeling in my heart making me suddenly quite emotional. Once I stepped away, I wouldn’t see him for months, and I wasn’t sure how to handle that lack of Fred in my life.

“I love you; you know?” I reminded him, reaching for his shirt.

He bent down to kiss me, one quick one, and then one slow one- one that _almost_ felt like those kisses behind his bedroom door in his flat above the shop. He grinned as he pulled away and I looked at him- deprived, desperate.

“Pretty sure I love you too,” he said, kissing me quickly one more time. “Now go. Be safe. Tell Hagrid I say hello and tell Ron his haircut looks stupid.”

I nodded, taking a few steps away from him, dragging my trunk with me. I pushed toward the crowd. When I glanced over my shoulder, I was grateful to see that he was still standing in the middle of the platform- hadn’t even moved an inch. His hands were buried in his pockets, and he flashed me an encouraging smile.

“Write to me,” I demanded, calling to him loudly over the rustling platform.

“Got it,” he nodded again.

“Right,” I said, saying goodbye to our perfect summer in our perfect little bubble. I knew that we’d never get that perfection again, not with the way the world was going. “Bye, Freddie.”

“See you in a minute, darling,” he said.

I turned, and I didn’t look back- I couldn’t. I was fairly certain I heard a snap once I pushed through a crowd of people, but I refused to check if he was still standing there. I didn’t want to turn in hopes of seeing that smile. I knew he had gone.

I climbed onto the train and scurried through the aisles, peering into compartments as I passed. First-years, fifth-years, a bunch of Hufflepuffs who looked horrified that I was debating to come sit with them, and then…

I threw open the door, and a big, smiling face stood to greet me. He was wearing a Quidditch t-shirt and some fancy looking slacks. His hair was pulled back into an elastic, messily, with his wand stuck within the styled bun.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite attempted murderer,” Lee grinned.

I rolled my eyes, shouldering my way into the compartment and shutting the door behind me. I shoved him gently, but ensured that I gave him a quick side-hug as I passed.

I fell down onto the seat after hoisting my trunk above us, and he sat across from me. The compartment felt larger than usual as we stared at each other, missing two critical members of our group.

It would be okay.

This year was about us getting what we wanted, and we could manage that on our own.

As the train began to move, and my heart began to swell with that sense of excitement that I always felt before we returned, I begged whatever gods were out there to allow my eighth year to pass easily. I was ready to move on, to find my place in this world outside of school, and to make a life with the people who mattered the most.

Luckily for me, one of them was sitting right across from me.

I thought about Fred, back in the shop with George, serving customers with a goofy grin and a natural salesman ability. I thought about all of the ways I loved him, and they were endless. I could spend years detailing how his love consumed me.

There was an eerie feeling about this return, darker than the last. After Sirius, it was hard to be optimistic about anything- but I had lights in my life that were giving me hope- little sprinkles of fairy dust that kept me going.

Fred.

George.

Lee.

As I listened to Lee’s retelling about how he had met a muggle girl in London this summer, and how she had looked so much like Flo that he had _almost_ outed the magical world to a muggle for a second time, I did not notice a pair of steel-gray eyes watching me carefully as they passed our carriage.

I didn’t notice how he was carrying himself like a completely different person, how he seemed older, withdrawn- empty.

I didn’t notice how he seemed to shut his eyes in relief for a moment, only for a breath, when he saw me among the returning students.

I did not notice.

But I would.

**~*~ END OF BOOK 1 ~*~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end!
> 
> The sequel has been posted (no chapters yet!). Make sure to bookmark if you want to keep up with Aylia/Fred/Draco!
> 
> Thank you guys from the bottom of my heart for all of the support. Writing this made me fall back in love with writing. I have been writing since I was about eleven, and I've never finished a fic before this one. I'm so grateful for all of you and can't express how much i ADORED all of your comments. 
> 
> I hope you find something to enjoy about this ending- I know they are usually controversial. 
> 
> Thank you again.


	45. Sequel

Posted!!!!!!!


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